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THE MYSTERIOUS 
MONOGRAM 



A COMPOSITE STORY 

BY 

THE LUCKY FRIDAY CLUB 


QUINCY, ILLINOIS 



V 



COPYRIGHT 1911 
BY THE LUCKY FRIDAY CLUB 



©C1.A295373 


FOREWORD 


This book is unique in many particulars. The 
members of the Lucky Friday Club, a social and liter- 
ary society meeting every fortnight were instructed by 
its program committee to write a composite story. 
Accordingly each member of the club was assigned the 
task of writing a chapter of the story, to be read at the 
successive meetings of the society. The plot was de- 
veloped progressively^ and the hook like Topsy “jes 
growed.” No outline was followed, and each author 
allowed, his own fancy to dictate the course of the 
story, taking into consideration only that which had 
already been written. No author could begin his 
chapter nor lay any plans for it until the preceding 
chapter had been read at a regular meeting, for before 
that he could not know what turn would be given to 
the story by the last writer. 

The selection of a title to the story was left until 
after the final chapter had been read, when it was de- 
termined by ballot and the choice made from several 
that had been proposed. . 

A popular school mistress, the club’s mascot^ was 
given the first assignment, and the first short chapter 
indicates that she intended the heroine to follow the 
stage, thereby unconsciously expressing her own 
theatrical and romantic turn of mind. The next chapter, 
by a masculine author, brings the strong character of 
the girl’s father into prominence, and leaves the story 
at a critical point. 

The authors of the 'following chapters, alternating 
first a lady and then a gentleman, develop the story 
into a complex and intensely interesting composition. 
The book is submitted to the reader in the belief that 
it compares favorably with many of the modern stories 
by professional writers. 

It is needless to say that the story created, an in- 
tense interest among the members who were kept on 
the tip-toe of expectation, because no one knew what 
was coming. There were only two or three absences 
of members during the entire season. 


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The Mysterious Monogram 


CHAPTER I. 

Once upon a time, as all good storied begin, the 
chief train dispatcher of the Great ' American Rail- 
way had cleared the track and the special of the 
president of the road, with the right of way for a fast 
run to Chicago, only waited the conductor’s signal 
to begin the trip. 

idr. Warner, the president, pacing back and forth 
in the car, was anxious to be off. With him was his 
only daughter, Virginia, and it was Virginia who was 
the cause of this hurried trip. 

One would hardly have thought of Warner as 
the president of this mighty road, and yet he had 
held that position for years. R3a?ly,'one might say he 
was the road. The small shrunken figure g?-vo no hint 
of the wonderful executive powers he possessed. To 
his co-workers he was a man of iron — an intellect 
without heart or soul. To his daughter he was all 
gentleness and love. 

He adored his daughter, who had been left him by 
his wife who died when Virginia was but a small 
child, and now she was twenty. The father had never 
been too busy to look after the welfare of his daughter, 
and she had been given advantages that fall to the lot 
of but few girls. ^ 

Today his mind was not occupied so much with the 
responsibilities of his high position as with something 
that threatened his home life. Virginia had developed 
a “mad desire,” so the father put it, “to go on the 
stage.” To this he could not and never would give his 


4 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


consent. Her mother had been an actress of much 
note, but of this Virginia had been kept in ignorance. 

For days the girl^ had been studying the prob- 
lem, how best to present the matter to her father. She 
felt sure there would be great opposition on his part,, 
but the call of the blood could not be put off much 
longer and soon he must know. 

How the subject had been approached that morn- 
ing at the breakfast table, or what had been said, Vir- 
ginia never had a clear idea — only that in unmistakable 
language her father had commanded her to re- 
linquish all hope. 

The father had yet to learn that he had given his- 
will of iron to his daughter. 


TWE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


5 


CHAPTER II. 

Ding! dong! whchee! and the splendid train was 
oft' with the speed of the wind. Faithful Old Jack 
Hinston was at the throttle, with oral orders to see 
what old Twenty-seven could do. 

Trusted and tried Old Jack had been with the Great 
American ever since the road was biiTt. He was a fix- 
ture. He had known Virginia from babyhood. All the 
employees at the home office knew Virginia — knew her 
for her sunny disposition, for her graceful ways, for her 
friendly chatter, and for the air of equality and com- 
radeship which followed her slight figure wherever she 
went. 

■ Today as Old Jack touched his cap with his grimy 
hand when Mr. Warner had given him his running 
orders, he noticed a look of appeal in Virginia’s eyes 
that told him more plainly than words could tell that 
she was in trouble. He also noticed that the president 
was unusually excited, although endeavoring to sup- 
press his feelings by a forced attempt to be interested 
in the speed of the train. “Give her all she’ll take and 
see what she, can do,” he had said as he waved his hand, 
and passed on. But Old Jack had learned to attend to- 
his engine and to mind his own business, so he only 
mumbled, “Poor dear, poor dbar,” and at the first sig- 
nal from the conductor he opened the throttle and was 
off, and he thought no more of the troubled face till he^ 
pulled into the long shed at Chicago. 

The train was off. The president was pacing the- 
floor of his private coach smoking in silence. Virginia 
sat near in moody defiance. It was tho first time her 
will and her father’s had clashed. It was, on her part, 
her first disobedience. It was the first time his author- 
ity had been defied, and by his own daughter — the tiny 
tot whom twenty years ago he had named Virginia in 
honor of her mother’s native state — by the little girl 
whose helplessness and pretty ways had encouraged and 
inspired him to make a success when her mother had 
been so suddenly taken from him — by the sprightly 
young woman on whom he lavished so much care, and 
for whose future he had laid so many plans. Defied by 
the sole object of his hopes, his ambition, and his love. 
And as he brooded on the step he had resolved to take*, 
he glanced at Virginia, sitting there in wretched 


o 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


silence. What a picture! — her trim figure, her lithe 
form, her easy bearing, her jaunty grace, her dark hair, 
her finely chiseled features, her dark soulful eyes, now 
swimming in ill-concealed tears, and withal a deter- 
mined look on her countenance that he had never 
noticed there before, and which excited the great ex- 
ecutive’s admiration and gave him a different view of 
his daughter’s character than he had ever noted before, 
— she had inherited her mother’s grace of form, 
feature* and voice, but her father’s resolute will. 

As his glance rested on her for a moment, his 
.thoughts uncjnsciously went back to the time, seven- 
and twenty years ago, when he was plain James War- 
ner, civil engineer, with but little money and no po- 
sition. He was discouraged and in despair. He had 
strayed into a theater in Philadelphia more by accident 
than by design. The play was in progress. Juanita 
Lockland was in the midst of her great act. Her simple 
•Grecian costume served to accent the charm of her 
supple form; her dimpled arms were stretched forth 
in earnest appeal to the exultant villain who stood 
haughtily before her, his dark thoughts plainly shad- 
owed on his evil countenance — his victim was in his 
power. In her tearful dark eyes was a look of imploring 
helplessness; in her clear full voice was a pathos that 
would touch the stoniest heart; from her intelligent 
face phone forth a saintly purity and queenly dignity 
"that was irresistible. The villain trembled, his purpose 
wavered, his conscience awoke; he stepped back 
cowering; he slunk away — virtue had vanquished vice. 
Juanita was master of her art. The great crowd went 
wild. Tears and cheers were mingled from parquet to- 
galleries. Bouquets showered on bouquets. But hark! 
a fearful explosion — a puff of smoke — a sheet of fiame, 
and everybody was involved in a panic — a pell-mell 
rush for safety in which each thought only of himself; 
in which each made a blind dash for an exit — a panic 
In which the weak went down before the strong, and 
the strong opposed each other in headlong, heedless 
liaste. The stage was a seething furnace, with every 
►exit cut off by flames. Juanita stood alone, transfixed 
hy fear, powerless to move, certain death staring her 
in the face. 

James Warner had been deeply moved by the great 
;act he had just witnessed. He had an almost uncon- 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


/ 


trollable impulse to rush onto the stage and throttle 
the villain. He had exulted at the triumph of the slight 
girl in her purity over the burly impersonation of evil 
before her. At the first cry of “Fire!” his trained 
mind had recognized the fatal consequences of the mis- 
hap to the stage machinery. His quick perception told 
him there was but one chance in a hundred to save him- 
self, much less to save the woman who stood fifty feet 
from him, and between whom and himself was a sea. 
of frightened men and women. He did not hesitate an. 
instant. He dashed forward through flame and smoke, 
through the confused and fighting mass of humanity. 
Ho sei'ed the terrified Juanita and by almost super- 
human effort bore her to the open air and to safety, but 
not without frightful injuries to himself — injuries he- 
would bear to his dying day. 

Juanita was unconscious now, but in that awful’, 
struggle when both were in imminent peril of death_ 
their eyes had met and she had murmured, “Brave,, 
noble man!” He knew then that he loved Juanita, and 
he knew then that she loved him. 

James Warner was a hero. For the first time in 
his life he experienced the pleasure of public praise. 
He had saved the life of the public’s idol — its darling. 
He was a new man, filled with new ambitions. He loved 
Juanita with all the ardor of his resolute nature. 
Through his long struggle back to health, no other was- 
so constant in attentions as Juanita. She had found a 
brave spirit, a noble nature, and she was too noble and 
truthful to conceal her great admiration for his bravery 
and self-sacrifice. 

He was determined to win her; he felt ti:at he had 
won her. But how was he to provide for so precious 
a being? He was poor; he was unknown; and she was 
in love with her art. She was recognized as a great 
artist. Would she be willing to sacrifice her profession 
t-o become the wife of an unknown man who had no 
claims on her other than those imposed by an acci- 
dental crisis that had so, strangely brought them to- 
gether? But their eyes had met in a great commoil 
peril. He had saved her from a horrible death; she had 
saved him from deepest despair. He knew that he must 
aslc* her to share his hard lot, and he felt sure of her 
answer; but he hesitated because he was poor.. 


8 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


The train rushed o:i and James Warner was still deep 
in his reverie- — How the papers rang with Juanita’s 
praises as an actress; of the terrible acci- 
dent that cost hundreds their lives; of War- 
ner’s bravery in rescuing the people’s idol; how 
he had lingered on a bed of pain, recovering 
from his injuries; Juanita’s devotion; his recovery; 
his recognition by the promoters of the Great American; 
his rise to influence and power; his marriage to 
Juanita; their blissful honeymoon, the birth of their 
beautiful daughter; his wife’s tragic death three years 
later; his struggles with fortune; his flnal triumph and 
success; his present trouble — all these memories hur- 
ried before him in -a swift moving panorama, as he 
glanced at his daughter Virginia — his wife’s other self 
— and he almost relented of the stern res Ive he had 
made that morning, when Virginia had announced her 
purpose to follow her mother’s footsteps and become an 
actress. 

He was about to speak to Virginia and in part at 
least consent to her wishes. He would reason with her 
and be reasonable — he would compromise. But just 
at this moment the train slowed down and came to a 
standstill at a small station. Mr. Sherley, the con- 
ductor, handsome, broad-shouldered, precise, came hur- 
riedly in with a telegram for the president. While his 
chief read, “H. leaves 3 p. m., J. S. P.,” Sherley stood 
in respectful silence, cap in hand; and as he stood he 
noticed the troubled, deflant look on the face of the 
president’s beautiful daughter, whom he had known 
for a dozen years, ever since he came into James War- 
ner’s service. He was now conscious of a mute appeal 
for help, but was cut short in his observations by his 
superior— “Sherley, send this wire at once; don’t lose a 
moment.’’ It was but a moment when the operator 
ticked off “J. S, P., Chicago. Hold H. till I arrive at 
all hazards. My expense. J. W.” The "conductor was 
directed to urge Old Jack to put on more steam and 
reach Chicago at the earliest possible moment. The 
railway magnate v/as on his mettle. The mad race was 
becoming interesting. 

But he would not be unfair. He would give Virginia 
a chance to change her purpose. He approached dier 
and said, “Daughter, dear, I have been thinking the 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


9 


matter all over again, and I w^uld like to talk to you 
further. I do not wish to seem unreasonable. I have 
set my heart on making you happy. I have higher and 
nobler things in mind for you than to become an act- 
ress. You have had all the advantages of refinement' 
and culture; many of the stage folk are base' at heart; 
their morals are low; their aims are not to elevate, but 
to debase. You are attractive; you have wealth and 
social position; I have great ambitions for you. You 
know my old-time friend, vice-president of the Over- 
land; he is wealthy, c.-ltured, influ -ntial. His only son 
Harry is twenty-four, and will doubtless inherit his 
father’s wealth and position. My interests would be 
greatly advanced and your happiness assured if the 
Great American and the Overland lines were in closer 
relations; if my daughter and his — ” But Virginia’s ire 
was aroused; she could contain herself no longer. 
“What! Grandpa Tom of the Overland!” she cried, 
“never! the simpering old doddard! His son? Im- 
possible! a conceited snob with a foreign accent and a 
sickening drawl! Never! I’ll be a nun first.” Her 
father held up his hand as a sign to stop for him to 
explain. But she did not heed and continued, “Why do 
you bother me with such things now? There is time 
for such matters when I have made a name for myself; 
when I have shown what I can do. I know that many 
followers of the stage are not refined; I know that 
some of them are ignorant; I know that there are more 
who fail than succeed; but the stage can do a great 
work. It should be plevated; its moral tone should be 
improved; and how can this be done unless refined 
people go on the stage? O, I think it most noble ‘to 
hold, as ’twere the mirror up to nature; to show virtue 
her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age 
and body of the time his form and pressure.’ I have 
determined to give the next twenty years at least to art, 
to the people, to elevating the stage. After I am suc- 
cessful; when I have demonstrated my powers, then 
and then only will I consent to think of my own hap- 
piness. Then I shall be your dutiful daughter again, 
and shall sacrifce myself to your ambtions, if you still 
insist on an alliance with Grandpa Tom’s snobbish 
Harry.” 

Poor Warne"! what could he Co with his head^ 
strong daughter? He knew the plan he had proposed 


lo THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

would be obnoxious to his daughter. He had never 
seen Harry, and neither had she, but he had great 
respect for “Grandpa Tom” as he was familiarly called 
by the subordinates. He wrs inordinately opposed to 
his daughter’s intended course, not so much that he dis- 
approved of the stage, but he honestly felt that she 
should have higher aspirations — besides his word was 
out. He had forbidden her to follow what he knew 
were her inherited tendencies, although he had never 
told her of her mother’s career, nor breathed that she 
had followed the stage. His daughter’s speech had 
again hardened his heart and he said simply, “You 
shall obey me in this matter. My daughter shall not 
disgrace me. I will carry out my purpose.” 

Virginia would hear no mo*e. She arose and 
entered her stateroom and closed the door with a bang. 
Her father was more angry than before. He paced the 
car in deep thought, and as he brooded he recalled that 
she had said, “I’ll be a nun first.” As he mused on he 
thought, “Yes, and perhaps much sooner than she 
thinks,” and he glanced around toward his daughter’s 
door as though he feared the mere thought might have 
been heard. He smoked another cigar. He began an- 
other reverie. He thought of his many business strug- 
gles; of the men under him; how they all worked with 
clock-like precision; how faithful many of them had 
been — Old Jack had saved his life in the memorable 
strike; Sherley had started as a lad of fourteen, and 
was now the trusted conductor of the president’s 
special — efficient, courteous, and resourceful. Many 
others he recalled as being loyal and faithful; but he 
felt that many of his men did not love him — he had 
lived so long without love, except the love of his child, 
and he now felt he was losing that, too. “Why dwell 
on these things!” he thought, “I will make the best of 
matters as they are.” The train slowed down, but 
started up again almost instantly. Mr. Warner 
glanced out of the car window — the scenery was beau- 
tiful, and for the first time that day he allowed him- 
self to notice. The white sail of a distant yacht stood 
out sharp and clear; a field, a farmhouse, a pretty 
clump of trees whisked by; an automobile with a single 
passenger was just turning out of sight around a dis- 
tant hedgerow, and the jaunty tip of the chauffeur’s cap 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


ir 


seemed to strike him as familiar,, but the trend of his 
observation was interrupted by the conductor who 
thrust a dispatch into his hand. It read laconically: 
“H leaves four sharp — ten thousand.” The president 
winced, looked at his watch and said under his 
breath, “It’s worth it and more.” To the waiting 
Sherley he said but one word, “Rush!” 

The great engine seemed to leap faster than ever. 
Old Jack’s watch showed 3:20. Twenty minutes more 
and the president’s special was flying through the sub- 
urbs of Chicago. Houses and pedestrians darted by in 
a confused streak. People wondered why the engineer 
did not slow down. They little knew of the anguish of 
a lonely father. They did not know the tragic event 
that was destined to make a great sensation and to 
humble a father’s haughty spirit. Five minutes more 
and the great H. would be gone. Already No. 27 was 
coming to a standstill. Already the excited father had 
knocked at his daughter’s door without response. 
Already he had rushed in and shouted to his daughter, 
“Hurry! we must catch that — ” but the stateroom was 
empty; Virginia was not there; a bit of lace fluttered 
from a window-catch. 


! 


12 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


CHAPTER III. 

In a wild and secluded spot, on the far away 
rugged coast of Maine, dwelt a sturdy and noble, though 
humble, Scotch family by the name of Thornton, con- 
sisting of the father, mother, and three sons. The 
parents though poor in this world’s goods were rich in 
good deeds and thoughts, and were especially ambitious 
to have their sons become well educated, and to make 
their marks in the world. 

John Thornton, always a man of limited means, 
could not afford to educate his sons as he would have 
liked to do. They were sent to the village school and 
acquired the usual meager education thus afforded. 
This schooling did not satisfy the ambitions and as- 
pirations of the eldest son, George, in whom we have 
a greater interest. The environment under which this 
boy was reared, was such as to instill into his very soul 
a love for nature and art, surrounded as he was by 
nature’s most glorious handiwork — the restless, heav- 
ing, breathing, foaming sea, dashing against the rocky, 
barren coast, on the one side while to the west beauti- 
ful green mountains lifted their lofty peaks heaven- 
ward, along the foothills of which the stately pine trees 
with their evergreen and fragrant foliage swayed in 
the breezes — while stretching between were the rolling 
prairies with their waving grass, threaded here and 
there with silver streams of sparkling water, and oc- 
casional fields of grain, amids" which were the 
picturesque cottages of the sturdy farmers — one of 
nature’s great art galleries. What wonder that a boy 
brought up amid such surroundings and especially after 
having inherited artistic tendencies from his great 
grandfather on his mother’s side, who had acquired 
more than local fame as an artist in Scotland in his 
day, should feel in his inmost soul an intense longing 
to reproduce the beauties cf nature as he saw and felt 
them. From his earliest childhood, he began to show 
great talent in various ways, such as sketching land- 
scapes on the barks of trees, or on the smooth surfaces 
of the sea-washed rocks. 

This great talent with which God had so richly 
endowed this youth, was lying practically dormant, for 
want of development, a luxury, which was beyond^ the 
reach of both parents and son, and it began to look as 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 13 


if this talent was doomed to obscurity, when on a cer- 
tain occasion James Stewart, a wealthy merchant from 
New York, in search of seclusion from business cares, 
spent a month among the mountains and foothills of 
Blaine with a party of friends, and while fishing from 
the rocks on the coast one day, his eye chanced to fall 
upon a small landscape sketch upon the face of one of 
the rocks along the shore, and being a lover of art 
and the possessor of a rich collection of rare paintings, 
he recognized more than ordinary merit in this sketch, 
.and immediately began to make inquiry as to the prob- 
able origin of the same, whereupon he was informed by 
a swarthy fisherman on the shore that the sketch was 
the work of George Thornton. Further inquiry elicited 
the additional information that the boy was a resident 
of the nearby village, which resulted in George Thorn- 
ton’s meeting the great merchant, after the close of 
the day’s fishing expedition. At this time George 
Thointon was a lad of fifteen — tall, broad shouldered, 
with large expressive blue eyes, heavy eyebrows, long 
lashes, and a wealth of golden brown hair. Standing in 
the presence of James Stewart, with the ruddy glow on 
his cheeks, he presented a handsome picture, which did 
not fail to leave its impress upon the great merchant, 
who, finding that George was without means to further 
his education or develop his talent, offered to be his 
benefactor, and send him to college, and later on to 
send him abroad to complete his education, and to 
study under some of the great masters. 

George Tiiornton was delighted to be able to 
realize the dream of his young life, but was too manly 
to accept these favors without insisting upon doing 
something in return for his benefactor. Accordingly it 
was arranged that he should go to New York, be placed 
in a college, and assist in the great mercantile business 
out of school hours, that he might feel that he was 
making his owm way. George Thornton was too inde- 
pendent and high-spirited to receive all that his kind 
friend would lavish upon him. At length after three 
brief years, crowded full of business and study, the 
time arrived for him to bid goodby to the many friends 
•that he had made by his manliness and sterling quali- 
ties, and sail for Europe. 

James Stewart was grieved to see him go, for he 
'loved the young man as his own son, and having no 


14 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


children his own, this young man had won his heart,, 
and bound him with cords of gold. Every comfort and 
luxury that wealth could give was bestowed upon. 
George Thornton to make his voyage pleasant and com- 
fortable, and money was provided for the study of his 
life work. 

At the end of a pleasant voyage, he found himself 
in London, where he remained for a year, studying 
technique and color under great painters. The next 
year he went to Madrid and at last to Paris. His first 
salon picture drew great throngs. It was called “The 
Sea” and made him famous. He received numerous 
orders from counts and countesses and people of 
royalty for portraits. For one picture alone he re- 
ceived $10,000, and was offered $50,000 for another. 
He lived alone and spent all his time at his art. Th^ 
praise and exultation which his pictures called forth 
gave him no thrill, as he felt that he had not yet 
reached the zenith of his success, and he kept at his 
work with this thought in view. 

After six years of study, success, and triumph, he 
found himself on board the great steamer Majestic, 
ready to return to his native land, and having secured 
his stateroom and attended to all matters pertaining to 
baggage, he had his steamer chair placed in a sheltered 
nook on deck with rugs and pillows luxuriously ar- 
ranged and with plenty of magazines and books to 
while away the long hours. He seated himself com- 
fortably, intent on watching the hurrying, bustling 
throng as it surged on beard with the usual tearful 
goodbys and partings. Presently his attention was at- 
tracted by two people on deck, an unusual looking 
couple with a distin:^uished air, apparently father and 
daughter, who were leaiJiig over the rail'ng, eagerly 
scanning the wharf below. He noticed the bond of 
affection between the two, how the fond fathe" had eyes 
for no other than his lovely daughter — how proud he 
was of her, and no wonder! George Thornion thought, 
as his eyes were riveted upon her — the wonderful 
grace of bearing, the dark soulful eyes, dark hair, and 
finely chiseled ^eatures — what fatha:’ woulcl not be 
proud of such a spirited creature? She was evidently 
looking for someone and said excitedly, “They are 
late. Poor Billy will be so heart broken if he does 
not arrive in time to tell us goodby.” Suddenly the 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


15 


^ang plank was pulled in, the last passenger aboard, 
when a cab rushed madly up the street, and stopped 
abruptly at the wharf, and out jumped Billy and his 
nurse with a large parcel in her arms. She heard a 
little familiar voice, “Hur^y, nurse, we shall be too 
late,” and they rushed down the gangWiay, only to 
find that the great vessel was leaving. His eyes were 
upturned, scanning the deck in dismay, when the girl 
called out, “Here I am, Billy, goodby dear,” when Billy, 
seeing her exclaimed in a grief -stricken tone, “O Vir- 
ginia, I had a present for you, my donkey, my precious 
donkey, I wanted you to have him.” Virginia re- 
sponded, “Never mind, Billy, you shall express him to 
me, I will get him and cherish him,” whereupon the 
little fellow was overjoyed and with tears in his eyes 
Avaved to Virginia; and she stood leaning over the rail- 
ing until he was l^'st from eight. 

None of this was lost by George Thornton, and he 
more than ever felt drawn to the object of his ad- 
miration. Soon they were lost to his vision as they 
left the rail, and mingled with the throng on deck. At 
a late hour, after passing a quiet evening in reverie, 
George Thornton retired to his stateroom and was mak- 
ing preparation for a night’s rest, when — horrors! a 
crash, a fearful breaking and snapping of timbers, and 
then a mad rush for the deck amid a great tumult as 
the people ra::> hurriedly to and fro in confusion, some 
thinly clad carrying their clothes, others moaning and 
crying hysterically,. not knowing the cause of the catas- 
trophe. 

George Thornton calmly, but hurriedly, maue his 
toilet, and hastened out on deck to learn what had hap- 
pened and found that the great Majestic had crashed 
Into another large vessel, under cover of night and the 
dense fog, and while there was no immediate danger, 
the passengers must be transferred to the othe^ boat, 
which was a very hazardous undertaking in mid-ocean. 
On the stairs he met Virginia and her father making 
their way out on deck. Something about the calm, re- 
assuring way of this man attracted their attention, and 
they inquired of him what had happened. He assured 
them that there was no immediate danger, but said that 
what was to he done must be done quickly. In this 
moment of awful suspense and rgony, George Thornton 
went about among the people, exhorting them to com- 


i6 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


pose 'ttiemselves, so that the work of rescue might be- 
carried on with system. He directed the passengers to 
help with the boats and launched one himself, into 
which he helped Virginia, and urged her father to 
follow her. The boat w.as quickly filled and instantly 
lowered, and the oarsmen with mighty stroke bent to 
the oars and thus, group by group, the whole passenger 
list, consisting of over a thousand was transferred to 
the other boat. Then followed the rescue of the crew 
of the fated vessel, and as the last one left the boat, 
she was swallowed up by the waves. From their 
position of safety on the other vessel, the people 
watched the faithful old boat sink from sight, with 
many exclamations of thankfulness to and appreciation 
for their rescuers, chief among whom is George Thorn- 
ton, the artist. This artist made a great impression 
upon Virginia, who recognized him as a hero, but he 
modestly retired from sight, not wishing to attract at- 
tention, nor to receive the praises of these people, for 
whom he so readily risked his life. Thus after a delay 
of but a few hours, the Theodore Roosevelt, which was 
not seriously damaged by the collision, proceeded on 
her way, and they landed in safety, after an uneventful' 
voyage, during which time George Thornton saw very 
little of Virginia and her father, except at a distance 
when promenading the deck, or while in the dining 
saloon. 

Two years after this great catastrophe, years tliai 
were crowded full of hard work, in his studio in New 
York, George Thornton decided to take a little rest and 
recreation, and in order that he might see the beautiful 
country, and obtain ideas for the great painting.-^ 
which he had in mind, he started with his chauffeur 
and full equipment for a long journey across the 
country. He journeyed westward as far as the state of 
Illinois and recalling a friend residing in a small town 
near Chicago, decided to stop over for a few days to 
rest and to visit with him. The day after his arrival, the 
weather being good, he started out alo.:e for a short 
ride into the country. And as he sped along, he turned 
into a road, on one side of which a hedge fence sur- 
rounded a field of golder. grain. Suddenly he arrived at 
the railroad crossing, just beyond whi h his eyes fell 
upon an object lying near the track, and stopping to in- 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAAI. 




..vestigate, he found to hi3 horror that it was the bruised 
and bleeding form of a woman. He felt the pulse and 
finding that life was not yet extinct, tenderly lifted the 
body into his car and hastened toward the town in 
search of medical assistance. 


CHAPTER IV. 

When Virginia entered her stateroom, her whole 
being was throbbing with emotion. She had become so 
excited by the hasty words of her father in the conver- 
sation at the breakfast table that morning, by this — her 
first act of deliberate disobedience and. by her father’s 
later commands, that she give up at once what she had 
come to look upon as her life work — all of which 
seemed to her so cruel and unjust — that it did not seem 
possible she could stand anything more. Now, to cap 
the climax, he had had the audacity to propose to her 
at this time, an alliance with a man whom she did not 
know and had never seen — Harry Holcomb, the son of 
old Grandpa Tom. 

She hastily raised the window of her stateroom and 
seated herself by it, hoping that the wind from the fly- 
ing train would co 1 her temples, w'hich were throbbing 
as though they would burst. She had never doubted 
her father’s love until now. He had always been most 
kind and indulgent, but his course in this matter seemed 
to her so unjust that she felt he could not love her as 
he ought. Surely she was right. What could be more 
worthy, even though her father was wealthy, than to 
make a name for herself — to devote ten — fifteen — 

twenty year= of her life to the uplifting of the people 
of the stage — to assist in making the theatrical pro- 
fession one in which any person might as worthily seek 
fame ac in any other. Her father had made a name fo 
himself among the mighty men of the nation. Why 
should he deny to his daughter the same privilege? He 
had told her he had in mind higher and nobler things 
for her than to become an actress, and as a sample of 
what they were had intimated that his interests w'ould 


i8 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

be advanced if she would marry Harry Holcomb. She 
did not want to marry Harry Holcomb nor anyone else 
at this time. Why should her father want her to marry 
him when neither of them had ever seen him, and how 
did he know that Harry Holcomb wanted to marry her? 
Did he expect her to throw herself at him and try to 
catch him in that way, or was she a chattel to be bar- 
gained for and sold that the interests of the Great 
American Railway might be advanced? 

What was the object of this mad race to Chicago? 
Was she being taken there to meet the son of Grandpa 
Tom? Her father had not told her so,, but she could 
not help but feel that she was the cause of the journey. 
Surely no man who loved his daughter could act 
toward her in this way. 

As these thoughts, one after another, surged 
through Virginia’s mind, she felt that she must do 
something to escape the dreadful situation in which 
she was placed. She thought of appealing to Jack 
Hinston or Conductor Sherley — either one, she felt sure 
would help her — but if they did, it would probably be at 
the cost of the positions which both had worked so 
many years to obtain. No, she would not ask them to 
help her. For whatever was done she alone must be 
responsible. 

Just as she had reached this conclusion, she 
noticed the train was entering a city and was slacking 
speed as though preparing to stop. Her eye caught the 
name South Bend from a sign on a factory, and there 
flashed into her mind a plan which she instantly felt, 
if she could carry it out, would thwart her father, for a 
time at least in his mad purpose of marrying his daugh- 
ter to advance his own interests. She knew that the 
train would stop only long enough for her father to 
send or receive a telegram, and what she did must be 
done quickly. 

Leaping hastily from her seat — ^not noticing in her 
excitement that her sleeve had, caught on the window 
catch and that a bit of lace had been torn therefrom — 
she carefully opened the stateroom door and saw her 
father with his back towards her, sitting in deep medi- 
tation in the other end of the car. Quickly putting on 
her hat and seizing her suit case, she slipped from the 
room, carefully closing the door behind her. As she 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


19 


approached the door at her end of the car, she saw the 
conductor leap to the platform as the train came to a 
stop and rush into the station. She quickly dropped off 
the train on the other side, stepped behind some cars 
that were standing on a side track and waited. In a 
moment Conductor Sherley came from the station^ 
sprang into the car — re-appeared almost instantly to 
wave his hand, to the engineer — and the train moved on. 

When Virginia noticed the name of the city, she re- 
called that in a small town not many miles from here 
was the home of a friend and classmate, Mary Cardwell; 
and her plan was, if she succeeded in escaping from the 
train unseen, to seek her friend and persuade her to 
keep her in seclusion till her father might have time^ to 
think over the matter more calmly and become, more 
reasonable. She realized, that for the success of her 
plan she would better not be seen by the employes at 
the station, and so she started across the railroad yards 
hoping to reach a street in that direction. Threading 
her way between rows of cars, she had nearly reached 
a street, when as she stepped from behind a big freight 
car, she stepped onto the track of an approaching 
switch engine only a few feet away. The engineer saw 
her at the same time, and the fearful shriek from the 
monster mingled with the crash of hastily applied 
brakes seemed to freeze her blood in her veins. But 
only for an instant. Thanks to her athletic training at 
College she had learned, to think and act quickly. 
Without hesitating an instant she gave a tremendous 
leap ahead, cleared the track and was safe. When it 
was all over her strength left her and she was so weak 
she could hardly stand. Her face was almost as white 
as the hand, kerchief she held to it, and one not knowing 
her intimately, would hardly have recognized her as 
Virginia Warner. 

The first person she met was a sturdy Irishman,, 
'dad in overalls — evidently a railroad man. She ap- 
proached him and inquired how far it was to the vil- 
lage of Colton and how she could get there. “Is it to 
Colton ye be wantin’ to go? Yes ma’am, I kin tell ye 
that it’s upwards of nine mile — too far for the likes o’ 
ye to be walkin! Go up here two blocks and take a 
Roseville car — that’s the green one — an I it will take ye 
right there.’’ “Dr. Cardwell? Yis ma’am, I know him. 
’Twas him that pulled little Patsey throi gh the 


20 


THE MYSTERIOUS M0N0(;RAM. 


meaisles — and a fine man he is, too. Get off the first 
time the car turns beyond Cclton and there ye be — 
right at the doctor’s gate. Ye can’t miss it.” 

Thanking the man for the information, Virginia- 
walked on i p the street, was soon aboard the green car,, 
and in due time reached the corner. As she alighted 
from the car, she saw the sign of Dr. Cardweil sus- 
pended from a pole in front of a gate from which a. 
walk led to a house among the trees some distance 
from the street. 

The house was an old fashioned rambling affair — 
plainly showing the various additions that had been, 
built from time to time — with big porches and stately 
columns, and gave every appearance of comfort and 
content. It was in a large yard filled with gigantic 
oaks, elms, and, maples over which climbed Virginia 
creepers, ivy and wild grape vines in rich profusion.. 
It was such a ountry home as one would expect to find 
in the South rather than in Indiana, but it had been in: 
the Cardwell family for several generations and each 
had tried to add something to its beauty. The verjr 
atmosphere of the place seemed to be restful, and its 
whole appearance to bid a welcome to any one desirous 
of escaping from care of trouble. 

As Virginia approached the house, she saw someone 
in a hammock some distance to the left — another look 
told her it was her friend, and, leaving the walk, she 
had nearly reached the hammock before being dis- 
covered. 

Mary Cardwell had been Virginia’s intimate chum 
at Vassar. She was two years her enior — tall, slender, 
and graceful, with light hair and blue eyes. Opposites 
are sometimes strangely drawn to each other and it 
was so in this case. Virginia was quick, impulsive, 
masterful, and could frequently carry her point by her 
very force of character. Mary was more quiet, gentle, 
persuasive, and the pleading look in her eyes could 
sometimes accomplish more than Virginia’s forceful 
command. These two girls, so different in tempera- 
ment, seemed each to find her counterpart in the other, 
and Virginia felt that fortune had indeed favored her 
at a time when she so much needed a friend, by placing 
her in the company of Mary Cardwell. 

Hearing some one approaching, Mary looked up and 
after one look leaped from the hammock and running to- 


THE MYSTERIOUS MOiVOGRAAI. 


21 


her friend clasped her in her arms — “Why, Virginia 
Warner, you don’t know how glad I am to see you, but 
what brings you here looking rs if you had lost your 
last friend? — and you have been crying, too. Come sit 
down here in the hammock rnd tell me all about it.” 

“Well, Mary, I do feel as if I had almbst lost my 
last fri nd, but I have come to you and I want you to* 
help me — so I suppose I must tell ycu all about it.” 

Seated in the hammock, clasped in each other’s 
arms, the girls’ talked for a long time. After telling her 
story, Virginia said, “I cannot help but think that this 
matter having come to papa so suddenly, and being at 
variance with his plans has made him unjust and un-' 
reasonable. If I should disappear for a while and he 
have time to think it over, I am sure he will feel that 
he is wrong. I want you to keep me for a time and not 
let anyone know who I am.” 

“But Virginia, you don’t suppose that the 
daughter of James Warner can disappear with- 
out the greatest efforts being put forth to 
find her? — the newspapers will be full of it, rewards 
will be offered, and someone will find you, even if for 
no other reason than to obtain the reward.” 

“Yes, Mary, I know all that, but you are the only^ 
soul in this neighborhood who knows me. I will take 
another name, and unless you tell, I do not believe any 
one will find out who I am. My middle name is Lock- 
land — it was my mother’s maiden name — and I will be 
Virginia Lockland, your schoolmate and you can so in- 
troduce me.” 

Mary was at last persuaded, even though she was. 
not quite sure it was the wisest plan, and everything 
being arranged, the girls' started for the house. 

Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell were glad to welcome any 
friend, of Mary’s and the generous hospitality shown 
her seemed to make her foreet her troubles, and she 
became again the jolly, companionable girl that Mary 
had known at Vassar. 

The next morning as- the girls entered the dining 
room. Dr. Cardwell was standing by a window reading 
the morning paper. He turned with a pleasant greet- 
ing but immediately called, their attention to the glar- 
ing headlines on the front page of the paper. “Dis- 
appearance of an Heiress.” “Daughter of a Railroad: 


r22 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

President Disappears from a Special Trai-^'” “Elope- 
ment or Suicide — Which?” “Police Unable to Find 
Clue.” “$2,000.00 Reward.” The doctor then read the 
article and the disci ssion became e:eneral. Thanks to 
her natural talents, Virginia was able to act her part 
well and to take some part in the discussion, but 
Mary, not feeling quite so sure of herself, attended 
■strictly to her breakfast and said very little. 

If Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell had any suspicions, from 
the actions of the girls, they kept them to themselves. 
Several days passed and Virginia had come to believe 
her hiding place secure. The newspapers, each day, 
contained articles regarding her disappearance, but they 
had been transferred from the front page to the inside 
‘Of the paper — so quickly does a sensation lose its at- 
traction when there is nothing new to add. The girls 
remained close at home — refusing several invitations 
from Dr. Cardwell to ride with him while making his 
calls — fearing that possibly they might meet someone 
knew Virginia. 

At last, feeling less apprehension from the fact that 
nothing had happened they yielded to an urgent invi- 
tation from the doctor and went for a ride of several 
hours in the doctor’s big automobile — spinning from 
one town to another over the beautiful graveled roa l i 
•of Northern Indiana. It was late in the afternoon when 
they returned and Virginia went at once to her room to 
wash the dust from her face and hands and to re-ar- 
range her turban braid with which the winds from old 
Lake Michigan had played havoc. 

In about half an hour Mary *came running upstairs 
greatly excited. A young man had just brought to her 
father’s office a woman whom he had found at a grade 
crossing a short distance away and who was apparently 
badly injured. She was living, but unconscious, and 
had probably been unconscious for some time. The 
doctor did not know whether he could save her or not. 
There was not a hospital nearer than nine miles, and 
so she had been taken to a room in the other end of 
the house and her father was now dressing her 
wounds. The young man who brought the woman In 
Tiis a,utomobile, Mary described as being tall and hand- 
some, and Virginia could not help but notice that she 
•seemed very much impressed by his appearance. Find- 


THE MYSl'ERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


23: 


ing there was nothing he couM do, he had gone away 
without even giving his name. All this and more- 
Mary told — almost without stopping to take breath. 
She added that the doctor had telephoned to the city 
for a nurse, but until the nurse came she was to assist 
her father and must now hurry back to help him. 

At dinner that evening Dr. Cardwell announced that 
the patient, though still unconscious, was doing as well 
as he could expect, and, unless there were internal in- 
juries which he had not discovered, would rally shortly 
and soon be convalescent. The nurse had arrived and 
Mary was relieved from her duties, but could not relieve- 
her mind from the excitement of the case. The injured 
woman was a stranger to them all, and the girls in- 
dulged in much speculation as to who she might be and 
the cause of her injuries. 

The next forenoon, Mary being busy about the 
house, Virginia took a magazine from the library table, 
found a chair on the big porch at the side of the 
house, and was soon deeply interest^'d in a story. A 
little later, hearing a step on the porch at the front 
of the house and thinking it was Mary, she arose and^ 
went tc meet her. As she turned the corner of the- 
house, she stepped short in astonishment, for she was 
standing face to face with George Thornton. 


TUE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


^4 


CHAPTER V. 

'‘Miss Warner, this is an unexpected pleasure, I am 
very glad to meet you again. Are you visiting at Di^. 
Cardwell’s?” said Mr. Thornton, as he shook hands 
with Virginia. 

Poor Virginia was in distress of mind, and could 
not hide her embarrassment. ‘‘What was the best thing 
to do?” He must not call me Miss Warner.” ‘‘1 must 
make some explanation;” ‘‘1 believe it will be best, as 
it always is, to tell the truth” — were the swift thoughts 
that rushed through her mind. But she said, ‘‘Won’t 
you come over and sit down? I want to talk with you 
n little while.” 

So they sat down in the easy chairs on the wide 
porch, just out of the reach of the hot sun. It was an 
attractive spot, with its low wicker chairs and red rug, 
a hammock stretched from pillar to pillar, and a low 
stand with sc bowl of fresh June roses. Attractive, too, 
was Virginia in her cool muslin dress, and her cheeks 
flushed from the sudden surprise, and a look in her 
eyes not quite so clear and happy as the girl he knew^ 
two years before. 

‘‘How little you have changed. Miss Warner. I could 
easily shut my eyes and believe myself afloat on the 
broad Atlantic. Do you know I read a strange thing in 
the morning paper a week or so ago. It was headed 
‘Disappearance of an Heiress— daughter of a railroad 
president; — elopement or suicide, which; $2,000.00 re- 
ward,’ and on reading I found it to be Miss Warner.” 

‘‘Now here you are. You haven’t suicided, so I sup- 
pose you must have eloped. Suppose you trot out the 
happy man and let me see him, and by the way, what 
is to prevent my capturing you on the spot and claiming 
the $2,000.00 reward?” said Mr. Th rnton with a jolly 
twinkle in his eye. 

‘‘Oh, Mr. Thornton,” said Virginia, looking 
troubled, “I was afraid you might have seen that, and 
any way whether you had or had not I wanted to ex- 
plain how I happened to be here now that you have 
-discovered me. I am in a sorry plight f r I have quar- 
reled with father, and Virginias eyes filled with tears. 
^‘I have long had a passion for the stage. There is 
nothing to do at home. Father is away a good deal 


rilE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


25 

.-and I don’t seem to find much satisfaction in being 
alone so much with nothing to do. 

“Father was not willing at all, and started with me 
ior Chicago. He didn’t say, but I had a well defined, 
idea that he intended to shut me up in a convent. 
There were other grievances, too, and we had some 
words on the train and the first chance I got I bolted. 
I left the train at South Bend, ran away I suppose you 
would call it, and came here to Mary. Now I am going 
to work. I always have had a port of envy for the 
girl who was self-supporting — and I suppose she has 
envied me, with nothing to do but spend the money 
with which father always supplied me so liberally. 

“Mary’s father and mother do not know who I am' 
and I have taken the name of Lockland — my middle 
name. You are the first person I have pocn who knows 
me and you must be sure to call me by it.’’ 

“Well, well, this is a surprising tale,” responded 
Mr. Thornton. “When I began to joke you I had no 
idea the^'c was even the shadow of .c, cause for the 
;article in the paper. You^' father always seemed to me 
to be more than ordinarily devoted to his daughter, I 
thought.” 

“Oh, he was ” said poor Virginia, “but he has a 
strong will and is not used to being thwarted. Un- 
fortunately I have one too, or a good deal of stubborn- 
ness nr something. Father wished to outline my life 
for me and decide some things which no one could de- 
cide but myself. So I am here and he is — I don’t know 
where. I have my life to live and I think I should have 
something to say as to how I will live it.” 

“Well, I’m mighty sorry you’re in trouble. Miss 

War Miss Lockland,” said Mr. Thornton, looking 

wery sympathetic, “and if I can help you out in your 
dilemma, please let me know. You do not suppose for 
a minute your father is ignorant of your whereabouts? 

I think he knew not many hours after your disappear- 
ance.” 

Just then around the corner came Mary, looking as 
‘dainty and sweet as the viol ts tucked in her belt. She 
was quite amazed to see Virginia chattering away to the 
young stranger whom she had tried to describe to her 
ra few days before. 

“Mary, you see I did not wait for an introduction 


26 THE MYSTERIOUS MOXOCiRA.M. 

to Mr* Thornton. I met him on the porch, and such- 
was my joy at seeing a young man, after being buried' 
from -the outside world so long, that I captured him, 
dragged him to this corner, and here I’ve kept him for 
at U^st twenty minutes.” 

“The chains you may imagine, Mif^s Cardwell,, 
have not been heavy. In fact, I nearly forgot that I 
was on your front porch, but imagined myself on a 
steamer in mid-ocean,” said Mr. Thornton. 

“Poor Mary looks more and more mystified,’' 
said Virginia. “Mary, I became quite well acquainted 
with Mr. Thornton two years ago when I returned from 
Europe. He was on the steamer and helped to save 
father and me from an untimely death the night of 
the awful wreck. So we have been talking over old 
times.” 

“Miss Cardwell,” said Mr. Thornton, “how do you 
manage to exist in this berg?” 

“Why,, I lead the happiest kind of a life. A quiet 
life suits me best. Of course there isn’t a mad whirl 
^nd continued excitement, but I have my books and 
;music, and some very nice friends even here. Then. 
I help mother, and ride with father, and sometimes am 
fortunate enough to have my collero chums to visit 
me.” 

“It seems to me the deadest town,” said Mr.. 
Thornton, “worse than dead, it’s petrified and moss- 
grown. You can walk through it from one end to the 
other and see nothing more animated, than a cow 
fletcherizing on the green grass or a flock of ducks on 
the pond. It would be an act of kindness if you young 
ladies would help to lift this gloom that’s settling on 
me. The boating is fine on the river, and I have a 
chum whom I’m visiting. He would like nothing 

better, I can vouch for him as well as myself, than to- 

take you out for a couple of hours tomorrow evening. 
If we call at 6:30 that would not make it late.” 

“We will be delighted I’m sure,” said Virginia,, 

looking at Mary, “and w can row' if you want any 

help, for we belonged to the Vassar crew\” 

^ “We’ll pray for fair weather tomorrow' then,” said” 
-Mr. Thornton, as he rose to take his departure. 

“Oh, by the way, I almost forgot what I came for. 
It was to ask after the mysterious lady I picked up the 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


V 


other day. I think I know who she is, but perhaps she 
has regained consciousness so as to speak, for herself.” 

“Yes — she is dazed still,” answered Mary, “but she 
ask‘ d for Lois this morning. The nurse asked, ‘Where 
is Lois?’ She said, ‘Why at the settlement.’ Then she 
said to her, ‘Shall we send for her?’ She answered, 
‘Yes.’ So the nurse wrote a note telling about the ac- 
cident, and asking her to come. Then she said to her, 
‘I’ve forgotten the address — Where shall I send the 
letter?’ ‘To Lois Bennett, Northwest Settlement, Chi- 
cago,’ she said.” 

“Well, that agrees with what I heard,” said Mr. 
Thornton. “Some people living in the poor quarter 
over by the railroad said there had been a lady there 
from the settlement in Chicago that day, and one of the 
children said the lady got hurt by a runaway team, 
near the crossing. I hope the mystery will soon be 
cleared up. Good morning.” 

George Thornton chuckled to himself as he went 
down the street, to think of the fun he would have 
with Harry when he reached home. 

“By Jove,” he said, as he came in, “but we’re a 
pair of lucky dogs. I’ve made a discovery; found twa 
stunning Vassar girls — and we’re to take them out 
rowing tomorrow evening at 6:30. What do you think 
of your uncle now? I’ve been trying all the way down 
the street to decide on which one shall fall to my lot. 
Guess it better be the black-eyed one seeing I’ve known 
her longest. I met her on ship-board when I came 
home from Europe. You may have the other. 

‘With eyes so blue 

And heart so true 

That none with her compare.’ ” 
he sang in high spirits. 

“Who is she? Miss Cardwell?” said Harry, “I’ve 
heard of her.” 

“Yes,” said George, “and we’ll show them the best 
time that they have seen lately — for the next two 
weeks, if they’ll let us. There is boating tomorrow, 
and we can take auto rides and picnics, and that front 
porch will be like an oasis in a desert. I have visions^ 
of fudge, rarebits, and chafing dish suppers.” 

“ ‘This is the way I long have sought. 

And mourned because I found it not.’ ” 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


“I suspect when you leave they will both be in- 
consolable,” said Harry, “and go around singing, 

‘What’s this dull town to me? 

Robin’s not here.’ ” 

“Of course,” said George, “they’ll both be dead in 
love, and I won’t dare take either one for fear of 
breaking the other’s heart.” 

“How about your own?” said Harry. “It may 
happen to be the other way. In, fact, I was wondering 
if it wasn’t a little cracked from that earlier exper- 
ience. Ship-board is a great place for love affairs, iNe 
heard.” 

“Well it might have been a little cracked then, 
hut it’s sound as a top now,” tapping his broad chest, 
“and in no further danger — that was in my younger 
days.” 

“Well, it’s time for me to go back to business 
now,” said Harry, “but I’ll be ready for a frolic to- 
morrow night.” 

The next day dawned bright and clear, and was 
a. full one at Dr. Cardwell’s. In the first place, Mrs. 
'Cardwell came out with her hat on to join her husband 
at the gate. Her kindly smile always warmed the 
heart of the motherless Virginia. “I am going to the 
city with papa, Mary,” she said, “and we won’t be 
back until after dinner. Put the finishing touches to 
the table, and cure the sick and heal the wounded for 
papa if there should be any.” “Goodby, mother,” 
said Mary, getting up and giving her a kiss. “Goodby, 
mother,” said Virginia, following suit. With a happy 
laugh, “Goodby, riy two daughters,” said Mrs. Card- 
well, with an added tenderness for the girl. 

While the girls busy themselves at home we will 
go with the doctor and wife to South Bend where 
they drew up at the hotel St. Nicholas and were shown 
to room 41. They knocked at the door, which was 
opened at once and they met by appointment the pres- 
ident of the Great American Railway. “Dr. and Mrs. 
Cardwell, I presume,” he said, as he ushered them in 
and asked them to be seated. 

Mrs. Cardwell was dumb with astonishment. She 
knew her husband had an appointment to meet a man 
•on business, but she did not know why she was dragged 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


29 


Into it or what the business was. An unusual woman 
it must be admitted if she could ride the distance of 
nine miles from Colton to the city without having 
ferreted out that matter, but such was actually the 
case. 

“I suspect you wonder why you are called here, 
Mrs. Cardwell, and I will explain at once. I belieye you 
have a young lady at your home by the name of Miss 
Lockland. Her real name is Warner — Virginia Lock- 
land Warner, and I am her father, James Warner. I 
presume you have seen the press notices in regard to 
her disappearance — notices I have endeavored to sup- 
press, but ‘murder will out.’ Of course it was only a 
short time until I knew the whereabouts of my daugh- 
ter. We made but one stop after I saw her last. I 
sent a detective there. He soon found an Irishman 
who had directed her to your house. But I have done 
nothing further about it, for to tell the truth I do not 
know what is the best move to make,” — and the man 
who was the head of great corporations, who was hsed 
to sweeping aside all obstacles that blocked his way, 
whose keen judgment was sought for on the great 
topics of his day, had reached a problem of a new 
sort, where all his knowledge of the management of 
great railroads, his power as a great financier, did not 
count a pennyweight. The intricacies of a woman’s 
mind, the power of a woman’s will even though she is 
only a slip of a girl of twenty, had baffled him. 

If he had but used a. little tact, had shown her a 
little of the tenderness and love of which his heart 
was full, doubtless her soft arms would have been 
round his neck, the fair young cheek against his, and 
she would have said, “I shall do only as you think 
best, father dear, and all would have been clear sailing. 
Herein lies a lesson for all who are of the masculine 
persuasion: If you want your own way, as a MAN 
always does that is the way to get it. 

“Mrs. Cardwell,” said Mr. Warner, “I sent for you 
because I thought I needed a woman’s advice, and be- 
cause I wished to know how Virginia is bearing up 
under this. I think if her mother had lived she would 
have known how to prevent this breach. I presume 
she has told you her side of the story? — No?” 

So Mr. Warner told the story over, not forgetting 
to state that he had proposed marrying her to a young 


30 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


man he thought would be suitable, “1 thought I was 
simply doing a father’s duty by her to try to get her 
well settled, but she flew all to pieces,” he said. 

Mrs. Cardwell gave a little smile at that, and said, 
“If there is ever a question which a woman thinks she 
has an undisputed right to decide, it is whom she will 
have for a husband. If I wanted Mary to marry any 
certain young man, I should endeavor to have him at 
the house occasionally and give them every chance to 
become better acquainted, and then wait and see. 
However, I think that will be a matter in which I 
shall never interfere, unless she should choose a man 
that her father and I know is of questionable character 
or one who we are certain can not make her happy. 
Then we shall endeavor to make her see it. There is 
a time when we have ‘nothing to say. Nothing to 
say.’ ” 

“Perhaps that is where I made one mistake ” said 
Mr.' Warner meekly. “Now home isn’t home without 
her, Mrs. Cardwell. Now do you suppose you could 
talk with her as a mother would, and help her to seeV 
the thing in a different light? Of course she can stay 
with you but a short time. She has only a few clothes, 
and but little money — perhaps a matter of a hundred’ 
dollars or so.” , 

“This is certainly a sorrowful state of affairs. I 
will do all I can for you,” said Mrs. Cardwell, “but Vir- 
ginia has not conflded in me, although I have grown to 
love her more and more every day. She is a girl ot 
spirit, and though I have noticed a troubled look in 
her eyes, when she is quiet, yet she can always throw 
it off and become the life of the house. I will make 
an effort to get her confidence, but unless she talks to- 
me of her own free will, I feel that it would not be 
wise for me to broach the subject. She has said this 
to me, that she was anxious to earn her own living, and 
I think she is considering the ways and means. I be- 
lieve the best thing you could do, if you really want 
my advice is to let her try it, and wait for her to 
turn to you again as she is sure to do sooner or later. 
She has always been so sheltered and shielded, per- 
haps it will be a g'^od thing for her to find out what 
sort of a world it really is. She sent down for some* 
goods and is going to try making herself a dress. 


TWK MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


31 


These lessons will be good for her, and I am sure she 
will not forget her father even though she gives no 
sign for a time.” 

After a little further conversation, Dr. and Mrs. 
Cardwell took their departure, but not until they had 
promised to write to him soon. ‘‘I thank you,” said Mr, 
Warner, as he shook hands with them at parting, “It is 
a comfort to know Virginia is so well cared for at 
present.” 

While the good doctor and. his wife were away, 
the girls were having busy times at home. Virginia 
brought out her new'^ white lawn and the pattern, but 
she had but a few minutes to devote to it, for the door 
bell rang and in a short time Mary came in to tell her 
the news: “Our caller is Miss Bennett from the 
Northwest Settlement and the injured lady is one of her 
settlement workers. Miss Rhinehart. It seems that 
one of their boys whom they are looking after got into 
some trouble which put him in the lockup and he was 
anxious for some of them to come out here to see his 
mother. So this Miss Rhinehart came. As she had 
intended to visit her people, before returning to Chi- 
cago, those of the Settlement had ’ not thought it 
strange that they did not hear from her. So the mys- 
tery is cleared up. Now I have to see about dinner and 
don’t you want to entertain her for a few minutes? 
She is lovely and you will enjoy her.” 

“All right,” said Virginia, putting away her 
dress and pattern. “I’ll go out on the porch. I was 
just at the point of despair. How can I tell which gore 
goes where, and whether I am to cut one or two or 
how many of these pieces?” So she went out on the 
porch where Mary brought out and introduced the 
newcomer. 

“I am so much interested in your work,” said Vir- 
ginia in the course of the conversation. “I never knew 
much about it until I was in Vassar. There each class 
had 'to have its day in settlement work. I never did 
enjoy but one thing more.” “What was that?” said 
Miss Bennett, “The amateur theatricals-. I was quite 
carried away with that.” “No wonder,” said Mary, 
who had just come out, “she was always the star on 
those occasions. Always carried the leading part, and 
coached the rest of us in ours.” 


32 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


“I wish you lived in Chicago where you could" 
help us,” said Miss Bennett, “We are so much in 
need of some one who can do that very thing, for you 
know we have little plays for our people quite often.”' 

“I wish that I could,” said Virginia thoughtfully, 
“but you do not pay any salaries and I shall have to be- 
self-si^pporting from now on.” 

“We would give you board and room, and there is 
often a chance to coach outside parties, dramatic clubs, - 
or ladies who want to, entertain their husbands or high 
school students, which would pay you something. It 
will be a long time before Miss Rhinehart is able to re- 
turn, and we need some one so much. If you care to* 
try it, I will be glad to have you.” 

“I don’t know,” said Virginia, “I want to take 
lessons in dramatic art and I don’t know whether I 
could combine the two or not. I want to prepare my- 
self for the stage.” 

“I think you will have time, but when you become 
interested in our work, and see how much good you 
can do there, I believe you will stay with us. They are 
God’s poor and ours,” said Miss Bennett, gently, — 
“Well, I won’t say positively until I’ve considered it 
a little longer,” said Virginia, rising to go in. 

She was restless and unsettled, thinking the mat- 
ter over pro and con, and was no nearer a decision 
when her watch pointed to five. “I’m no nearer de- 
ciding this than I was before,” said Virginia to herself, 
“and it’s time to get ready for boating tonight. Away, 
dull care, and let me have a gay lark tonight, for I 
may not have many more such chances if I go to 
work.” 

Supper was soon over, and as they went out to 
the porch, they caught a glimpse of white flannels 
through the trees. “Here they are,” said Mary, and 
we are going now. Mamma, we’ll be in early. Good- 
by.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


33 


CHAPTER VI. 

The girls tripped lightly across the lawn to meet the- 
young men approaching them. Mr. Thornton intro- 
duced his friend, Harry Harriman, and at once unfolded 
to them their plans for the evening. They were to take 
the rowiboat on the river to Lake Michigan, a short dis- 
tance away, where Mr. Harriman’s yacht was lying at 
anchor off the wharf and would spend the evening on 
the yacht. 

They took the boat and were soon at the mouth of 
the river. The rowboat was secured at the wharf, and 
in response to a signal from the owner of the yacht, a 
boat was lowered and. two of the yachting skippers put 
to shore to take the party aboard. 

It was a beautiful evening. In the west a gorgeous 
sunset, the golden glories of the dying day illuminated 
the heavens, while in the opposite horizon appeared a 
silver moon, and they reveled in the double splendor of 
both luminaries. The yacht, that beautiful “swallow of 
the sea” — and inanimate nature can show nothing more 
beautiful, — nodding and rocking to the uudulatory 
music of the waves, caught the ruddy tints, the oranges 
and the crimsons of the sunset and threw them back 
across the sparkling waters of the lake. 

They stepped into the boat and were soon aboard. 
The anchor was weighed and they were off, gliding over 
the beautiful waters of Lake Michigan, like a sea gull 
in its flight, to a ten-knot breeze, enjoying to their ut- 
most the undulating motion of the vessel as it sped 
along its course. 

They met the captain, the boatswain, the cook, the 
steward., and the jolly skippers. Their attention was 
directed to the vessel, so perfect in all its appointments, 
with all the luxury and magnificence that designers, 
cabinetmakers, upholsterers and decorators could de- 
vise — so homey, so cozy and comfortable, a “floating 
cottage” on th'e sea. They examined with interest the 
deck and the cabin, the sails and the rigging, the anchor 
and the cables, the boats and the life preservers. 

The captain, a gentlemanly fellow, reserved and 
dignified, had gained by long and varied experiences at 
sea, those indispensable gifts of nerve; quickness of 
eye, and promptitude of judgment so necessary to meet 


34 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


the emergencies that frequently fall to the lot of one in 
charge of a ship at sea. 

They were told of the cook who could, prepare the 
most appetizing and elaborate menu on his one little 
stove for any number of guests, and how the steward 
would valet half a dozen, always cheerful, painstaking, 
and obliging. He tides the cabin, makes the beds, and* 
washes the dishes — but never grumbles. 

The boatswain, a man of great courage, skill and 
•experience, was at the wheel. They noticed that he had 
a grave and preoccupied air. He was watching the 
barometer, which tonight was depressed and continues 
rapidly to descend. 

The jolly party made merry with their witty say*- 
ings and repartee and gave themselves over to the 
abandon of a good time. 

Soon their attention was directed to the unusual 
action of the crew. They were hurrying here and there 
at the commands of their superior otRcer, and all was 
bustle and confusion. On looking back to the northwest 
over the starboard quarter, they saw that the once 
placid waters of the lake were lashed into a mass of 
white foam. A hurricane was rushing upon them with 
a force and velocity that was alarming to behold and 
they found themselves at once into the grandeur, the 
terror, and the horror of a storm at sea. 

The crew in the meantime were reducing the sail 
and preparing to meet the shock and fury of the blast. 
The boatswain maneuvered the craft and luffed up close 
to the wind to guard against capsizing, but the force 
was so terrific that the staunch little vessel careened 
’till the lee rail was entirely submerged. 

The gentlemen of the party, both of them good 
sailors, were endeavoring to calm the fears of the 
ladies, and as a matter of precaution they were each 
supplied with life preservers in preparation for any 
emergency. 

Dr. Cardwell came home after a hard day’s work 
with trying cases. He threw himself into a hammock on 
the veranda. His wife who was seated in a chair 
nearby, was sewing. They talked of the labors of the 
day that was drawing to a close, of their visit to Mr. 
Warner, and of Virginia’s attitude toward her father. 

This being their wedding anniversary, their thoughts 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 35 


naturally reverted to the past, of the time twenty-five 
years ago when as a young graduate he brought his 
youthful bride to this old rambling house that had been 
the home of the Cardwells for years. They were young, 
ambitious, and full of hope for the future. 

His preparation for his life work was abundant, and 
nature had dealt lavishly with him in natural gifts and 
personal magnetism. He read human nature as an 
open book. His heart and soul, his very life was given 
up to the cure of disease and to the relief of human 
suffering. He was a man of high ideals and he fought 
evil as he fought disease, and he loved right living as he 
loved “God’s antiseptic sunshine.’’ No appeal for help 
was ever turned aside. To him the father came with 
his anxieties, the mother with hidden grief, the daugh- 
ter with her trials, and the son with his- follies. He was 
always ready to respond to the call of the sick and suf- 
fering. Many a dark and stormy night he had left the 
warmth and comforts of home to answer the call of 
some poor sufferer. “The Lord’s poor, the devil’s poor, 
or poor devils,’’ were all the same to him, knowing full 
well that the only pay he would receive would be 
“thank you, doctor; but he drew his pay from the 
great fund of contentment and satisfaction of a duty 
well performed, and felt that peace which only a lonely 
physician can feel. Fully one-fourth of his work was 
entered upon other books than his own, but he drew his 
pay. 

They talked of Mary, their only child, and of the 
night soon after her birth when in response to the call 
of the night-bell, a plaintive wail was heard and search 
revealed a covered basket on the door step, and in it a 
baby boy, clothed in apparel such as only people of 
wealth and good taste could provide. A coat and hood 
of finest silk and wool, with dress and skirts of sheer- 
est linen, a blanket heavily embroidered in silk, in one 
corner of which was the monogram “R. W.’’ They took 
the little stranger into their hearts and lives' and loved 
him as their own, but had never been able to unravel 
the mystery of his identity, although every effort was 
made to establish a clew. They named him Raymond 
Wayne to conform to the initials of the monogram. 
They nurtured him with tender care and he developed 
into a sturdy youth, was carefully trained and educated 
as their own child, in school and high school, and then 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

at Harvard, where he received his degree and later was 
graduated in medicine, and the year just past had been 
spent in the hospitals and clinics of Europe. He was 
now expected home at any time. 

As they were talking of him and of his expected re- 
turn they hcafd a quick step on the walk leading from 
the street to the house and he was with them again. 
They greeted him with affection. They plied him with 
innumerable questions regarding his voyage and of the 
past year of separation and as they visited together — 
father, mother and adopted, son — their attention was 
directed to the west where Halley’s comet, its long tail 
sweeping away to the left, had, just come into view high 
in the heavens and were surprised to note the appear- 
ance of an approaching storm. They talked of the peril 
of those on the lake, and in their anxiety they got into 
their motor car and hastened to the pier. 

On their arrival, the storm was at its height and in 
the distance they saw the yacht floundering and being 
driven towards the shore. They watched the efforts to 
maneuver the vessel to avoid capsizing. They looked 
with breathless anxiety at monstrous wave on wave, 
each one of which seemed destined to engulf or capsize 
the yacht. At length when near the shore the vessel was 
seen to careen in response to the impact of a gigantic 
wave, and to their horror the flgure of a woman in white 
was seen to dash overboard into the boiling, seething 
waters of the lake. 

Dr. Cardwell and Raymond., both expert oarsmen, the 
later having been the leading stroke on the ’varsity 
crew, sprang into the row-boat that was secured to the 
pier earlier in the evening and now lashed by the fury 
of the storm, and launched into the turbulent waters, 
the boat riding the mountainous billows like an egg 
shell in the face of the storm. The lady overboard 
proved to be Virginia, the life preserver having kept 
her afloat and the storm carrying her rapidly towards 
the shore. With the powerful strokes and bending oars 
they were able to make some advance and Raymond, 
dropping his oars and throwing off his coat, plunged 
into the lake and with vigorous strokes reached the now 
almost unconscious girl, and with one arm around her, 
grasped the boat with the other hand as Dr. Cardwell 
drew to their side and assisted them into the boat. With 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 37 


some difficulty they effected a landing and at once en- 
deavored to resuscitate the now, unconscious girl, while 
they watched with intense anxiety the yacht as it was 
buffeted by the storm. Their efforts were rewarded by 
Virginia’s return to consciousness; and the yacht which 
was manfully battling with the receding storm, soon 
righted herself and for a time they lay-to on starboard 
tack, and as the fury of the storm abated, they were 
enable to make a landing, to the joy of the anxious 
friends on shore. 


CHAPTER VII. 

The members of the yachting party were hurried 
to their homes where immediate attention was given 
them. The girls were put to bed, covered warmly, and 
given hot drinks to revive hearts and spirits. George 
and Harry, after assuring themselves that the girls were 
not in serious condition, hastened to their own home, 
there to exchange wet garments for comfortable dry 
ones. Good Mrs. Cardwell had extracted a promise 
from them that they would use all means to prevent 
any serious results to their constitutions from the 
shock of their thorough drenching. The boys meekly 
promised, and after reaching home, Harry, with mock 
officioiisness, filled the hot water bottle, fixed up brandy 
and water, and brought them to George. 

“There, my dear George, of the delicate constitu- 
tion, if you heed all of these tender preparations I 
have made to preserve your feeble life, there is a possi- 
bility we may prolong it for a few hours more.” 

George listened with amused tolerance, then pick- 
ing up the hot-water bottle hurled it at Harry’s head, 
following it up with a couple of sofa pillows. 

“Better look after your own constitution, es- 
pecially that part of your anatomy commonly known as 
the heart, for upon my soul, man, I’ve never seen you, 
the cynical Harry, so captivated by a pair of brilliant 
black eyes and cherry red lips as you were this even- 
ing.” 


38 TPIE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


Harry looked grave. “George,” he said, “all jokes 
aside, Miss Lockland comes nearer being my ideal of 
a beautiful woman than any one I have ever met. True, 
I know her but little, but if her heart is as- good, as she 
is beautiful, I could wish to seek no further for com- 
plete happiness.” 

George had felt himself honor-bound not to reveal, 
even to Harry, Virginia’s true name, and wasn’t it just 
as fair for one as for the other? — ^for the Harry Harri- 
man who v/as- so fascinated by Virginia was none 
other than Harry Holcomb, the son of “Grandpa Tom,” 
the man whom, above all others, she felt she had 
reason to despise and abhor. 

Harry’s father had married late in life, but after 
a few years his wife died leaving a babe scarce a year 
old. His favorite sister had married a titled English- 
man, and she persuaded her brother to let her have the 
little fellow. She took him to England there to rear 
him amid the aristocrai' y, and with a view to adopting 
him; but Mr. Holcomb still clung to his child, and as 
Harry grew older he developed that active independ- 
ence of sturdy American manhood which would brook 
no dawdling English indolence. In his father’s fre- 
quent visits he had become well acquainted, with 
American manners and methods, and knew his father’s 
business fr.>m a to z — theoretically if not practically. 

After being graduated from college, his aunt had 
tried again to interest him in society, and to persuade 
him that a brilliant marriage was the goal to seek. 
But the call of the blood was in his veins, and he 
longed to be one of the busy, rushing throng which 
ever crowd our cities. So he bade adieu to England 
and came to America. 

One day, after a long and animated conversation 
with his father in the latter’s office, Mr. Holcomb rose 
and said, “Well, Harry, I presume I must accede to 
your request, since you insist; but why you should 
want to begin at the bottom and, go under an assumed 
name, when you could begin at my side, is a mystery 
to me.” 

“I suppose it does seem odd to you father,” said 
Hafry, “but all my life you have talked of how young 
America can rise from the lowest to the highest place, 
and all my life you have told how the common people 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


39 


are just as noble and courageous as the wealthy classes. 
In England this has been sneered at, and I’ve been told 
it was a huge joke • but inwardly, I have always wanted 
to put it to the test; and if I don’t do so now. I’ll never 
have another chance; and if I do not do this, I will 
probably retain some of the ideas bred into me by my 
dear old aunt; and if I ever hold the position which 
you now occupy, and which it is your one desire that 
I attain, how can I truly sympathize with my vast army 
of workmen. I wish to use another name than yours 
to avoid toadyism from my superiors, and to win pro- 
motion on my own merits. Father, we are all born 
free and equal over here; and I want to know my men, 
their lives, their hearts, their hopes, and their am- 
bitions. It is my belief that a corporation will suc- 
ceed better if it treats each of its workmen as a human 
individual, who has his hopes and aspirations, with 
his sorrows and his joys locked up in his bosom, the 
same as we have, and I want to prove it.” 

“Tut, tut, boy, of course a man’s a man, and no 
doubt be loves and grieves as we do, but a corporation 
must look, to the product of the whole, not to the 
smiles and tears of every John and Bill in its employ. 
But learn your lesson in your own. way, my son, I’m 
glad enough to have you with me.” 

And so it was settled, and thus it happened, that 
Harry Holcomb was Harry Harriman to his American 
friends. It was agreed that he should enter the Over- 
land shops at Chicago, and work up from the lowest 
round of the ladder. Harry had met George while 
the latter was abroad, and at their first meeting on 
American soil, he had explained his position to George, 
who, being risen from the lowly himself, encouraged 
his friend in his project. 

At the time our story opens, Harry had been going 
to and from his work on the interurban, and on the 
evening when George had proposed taking the girls 
out on the water, the boys had spent some time 
planning how they would secure Mr. Holcomb’s yacht 
and show the girls the time of their lives, agreeing to 
say nothing about whose yacht it was, if no questions 
were asked, but fixing up a plausible story of a “friend 
in need is a friend indeed,” should the girls become In- 
quisitive. 


40 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


They now sat discussing the disappointing outcome 
of their pleasure trip. They spoke of Raymond’s 
bravery in rescuing Virginia, and George chaffed Harry 
unmercifully about his dangerous rival. Harry agreed 
that a dangerous rival was all right in his place, and 
would probably cause George as much trouble as him- 
self. 

“Speaking of ideal womanhood,” George said, “I 
think I very much prefer the gentle Mary to your 
vivacious, black-eyed Virginia. Time once was when I 
had almost lost my heart to your .Juno, but now, I say, 
give me the Madonna face and sweet spirit of my 
Mary. She is an artist’s dream, ‘with eyes so blue, and 
heart so true,’ as but yesterday I sang so happily. 
Methinks her little hands were just made to smooth the 
lines of care from a weary painter’s brow.” “By the 
way,” he continued, “she was telling me a bit of ro- 
mance in Miss Lockland’s life. It seems as though her 
father is very wealthy, and has made an attempt to 
marry her off to some titled foreigner. Miss Virginia 
with a dash and vim has taken the bit in her teeth 
and bolted. She is down here on a little visit with Miss 
Cardwell, until she can bring the old fellow to time, 
or finds something to do. She is now considering set- 
tlement work, and really wants to earn a living in the 
good old way, by hard honest work. She has spirit 
enough, but I doubt if she could withstand the horror 
and vileness which she would encounter in settlement 
work.” 

Harry bad been looking thoughtful, and as 
Georg© ended exclaimed, “Marry her off to some for- 
eign snob does he? — the old idiot. I’d like to see the 
fellow he has picked out for her. I can just Imagine 
him — thin, cadaverous, with a sickening drawl; after 
her money; lead her a life of torment — she’d pine 
away and die. Oh, I’ve seen ’em, scores of them, with 
their monocles and patronizing ways. Ugh! it makes 
me sick to think of her fresh young lips being polluted 
by the kiss of such snakes of the earth,” — and he 
strode up and down the room with vehemence. 

“Zounds, man,” said George, but you are piratical. 
You needn’t tear up and down like a caged tiger; he 
hasn’t got her yet.” — 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 41 


“No, and by heavens, neither shall he ever get her 
if I can help it, and there’s my good right hand on it. 
Toon’ll help me to save her, old boy, won’t you?’’ 

George, suddenly grown serious, clasped his 
friend’s- hand in a hearty grip, and then and there two 
strong souls pledged themselves to save Virginia Lock- 
land from the obnoxious foreigner. 

Mary and Virginia were so excited and exhausted 
by their adventure, and were nursed so assiduously 
that they both forgot to ask who it was that saved 
Virginia from a watery grave. 

Ef^rly the next morning Mrs. Cardwell entered 
Mary’s room and after embracing and kissing her, 
asked if she knew who it was that had rescued Vir- 
ginia. “Why, no, mama, in fact I was so frightened 
that I don’t believe it has occurred to me to wonder 
how or by whom Virginia was rescued.” Mrs. Card- 
well sat on the edge of the bed and gave Mary the 
story in detail, only withholding the name of the hero 
who plunged into the water for Virginia. 

“O, the brave, noble man! How much I admire 
his courage, and how I long to thank him for his deed. 
Tell me, mama, who it is-, for he can never, never 
know the debt of gratitude we owe him.” 

My dear, your ‘brave, noble man’ as you call him 
is none other than your own brother, Raymond, who 
arrived after you girls left, and who was most anxious 
that we go to the wharf to look for you.” 

Mary’s delight knew no bounds, for she loved her 
brother dearly. She insisted upon seeing him at once, 
so hurriedly dressed and went out to him. Putting her 
arms about his neck, she laid her cheek against his and 
told him over and over again of how proud she was 
of her dear big brother. 

Virginia did not escape so easily from her ex- 
perience as did Mary, for while not injured, her nerves 
were badly shaken, and the doctor thought it best for 
her to remain in bed for a few days. 

George and Harry came over the next morning to 
inquire after the girls. They met Raymond and told 
him of their appreciation of his bravery as only men 
can do. 

Dr. Cardwell had telephoned Mr. Warner of the 
accident, and be decided to come over at once. The 
doctor apprised Virginia of this fact, telling her also of 


42 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


their meeting her father the day before, but assuring 
her that they loved her dearly and would always pro- 
tect her as a daughter. 

Mr. Warner came down the next day and there 
was an affectionate meeting between father and 
daughter. He proposed taking Virginia home with 
him as soon as she was able to travel, but she had 
found such peace in Dr. Cardwell’s home, and was still 
so unsettled as to her future career, that she begged 
to be allowed to remain. Mrs. Cardwell and Mary 
joined their pleadings to Virginia’s, until her father 
finally consented to her spending the summer with 
them, saying he would have her trunks sent to her and 
drop down often to see her. Virginia was delighted, 
and said she knew she would now recover rapidly. 
After several days she was able to sit out on the porch, 
where she drank in health and sunshine, which soon 
brought the roses to her cheeks, and a happy light to 
her eyes. 

One evening, about a week after the storm, Vir- 
ginia was sitting in her accustomed chair, when her 
father came up the walk and sat down beside her. “How 
is my little girl today?” he said, fondly patting her 
cheek. “O, so much better, papa, and almost happy, 
but O, papa, such an awful thought has come into my 
mind just today. I don’t know why I’ve never thought 
of it before. You know Mr. Harriman, of whom I have 
spoken several times? He has been so nice to me since 
the accident, coming over every evening and bringing 
me flowers when I know it must take almost every 
cent he earns.” 

“Yes, yes, but who is this young Harriman who 
causes you so much trouble? I’ve never heard of him.” 

“Mr. Thornton says he is a young man who is now 
in a moderate position, but who will some day make 
his mark in the world. Really, papa, he is nice, even if 
he is poor, and what worries me is that I am going 
under an assumed name. He is so straightforward 
and honest that I believe he will hate me all the rest 
of his life if he discovers how false I am. Papa, I just 
can’t bear to think of his criticism, — and dearie, 
won’t you just — won’t you please let me introduce you 
as Mr. Dockland?” 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


45 


“ ‘Mr. Lockland,’ I let you introduce me as Lock- 
land, Virginia, you must be mad, I cannot think of it.”' 

‘‘But, papa, only just this once. How can I let 
him know what Fve done? Please, dady, it will 
never hurt, for soon we will go away; our lives will be 
different from his, and we will never meet again. It 
means so much to me now, probably because I am ill 
that I exaggerate the crime, but I do so want you to. 
Please do, papa.” 

‘‘Virginia, anything within reason would meet 
with my approval, but don’t you see that this is out of 
all bounds of possibility? Why, I with the name that 
stands for so much power in this country, to even allow 
myself to pass as another for ten minutes, is some- 
thing to which I will never, never consent. I’ll — Eh?” 

Just then Virginia put her fingers over his lips, 
for turning the corner of the house was Harry Harri- 
man. Before Mr, Warner could realize what was 
happening, Viginia was saying, ‘‘Mr. Harriman, my 
father.” Harry extended his hand saying, ‘‘Mr, Lock- 
land, this is indeed a pleasure.” Mr. Warner uncon- 
sciously grasped, the extended hand, saying, ‘‘Eh, Lock- 
land did you say? — er, yes, yes — nice name — well, bless 
my soul, Mr. Harriman, glad to meet you,” and he 
strode abruptly away, while Virginia dimpled and 
smiled and was absolutely happy because she had 
gained her point and, because she had detected a pre- 
ceptible twinkle in her father’s eyes at being outwitted 
by a chit of a girl. 

Miss Rhinehart, the injured girl who had been 
staying at Dr. CardwelPs was also recovering rapidly, 
her injuries not proving so serious as at first supposed. 
The doctor thought it best for her to remain in Colton 
during the heated term, so she sent for her mother, 
and they were soon comfortably established with an 
elderly couple who lived, next door to Dr. Cardwell’s. 

Mrs. Rhinehart was a woman born of an aristocratic 
family, but very poor. Her associates had always been 
among the wealthy classes, and it had been a constant 
strain upon her to keep up appearances. At much self- 
sacrifice and with shrewd scheming, she had managed 
to educate her daughter, Ellen, at a fashionable 
woman’s college, hoping thrt she would make a bril- 
liant marriage, thus giving both mother and daughter 


44 the mysterious MONOGRAM. 


the position in society which the former so much de- 
sired. But Ellen had become so fascinated with settle- 
ment work while at college that upon graduation she 
had entered the Northwest Settlement as an enthusias- 
tic worker. 

Mrs, Rhinehart was so disappointed at this turn of 
affairs, that she was even more embittered with life. 
She sarcastically told her daughter that the terrible 
accident she had met with and which ended her settle- 
ment work for the time being was an act of divine 
providence. Especially she thought so when, on com- 
ing to Colton, she found three eligible young men, 
upon one of whom she might fasten her talons and 
capture for her daughter. After shrewdly surveying 
the situation, she saw in George Thornton a prospective 
son-in-law which would revive her asistocratic spirits 
and fulfil her highest ambitions, and she lost no op- 
portunity to urge her daughter to win him if possible. 

Ellen’s health continued to improve and in a few 
weeks she was able to join the other young people in 
many of their home pleasures and, outings. She felt 
that as she had disappointed her mother so much in 
earlier life that she would now try to make amends by 
being amiable to Mr. Thornton and ended by finding 
herself hopelessly in love with him. In conversation 
with her mother, she confessed her love for George, 
but that he had eyes, ears, and heart for no one but 
Mary; and. she now expressed a determination to return 
to settlement work as soon as her health permitted. 
Mrs. Rhinehart was furious and did everything in her 
power to compel Ellen to remain and win George if 
possible. But Ellen, never presuming, and now more 
diffident than ever, preferred to nurse her disappoint- 
ment iii silence. 

Geoige and Mary were, by common consent, 
thrown together almost constantly. George’s admira- 
tion for Mary had continued to grow as time went on, 
until he knew that life without her would hold little 
pleasure for him, but while she liked him and was 
fond of his society, still he felt that, as yet, he had no 
right to believe that she did or would ever reciprocate 
his affection. 

Raymond Wayne immediately entered into prac- 
tice with Dr. Cardwell, and took great delight in lift- 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 45 

ing some of the burden from his foster father’s 
shoulders. When but a child, he had often questioned 
why it was that his name was Wayne and his sister’s, 
Cardwell; but had been told by the doctor that when 
he was old enough he should know his story. So when 
he was ready for college. Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell told him 
his brief history and put into his hands the garments 
he had worn when found at their door. Raymond had 
looked at them thoughtfully, and carefully scrutinized 
the monogram on the blanket. The letters were pe- 
culiarly interwoven as though it might have been an 
original design, and usedi as a special mark of identity. 
He had since felt that he would never be happy until 
he had established his parentage whether it be for bet- 
ter or for worse. 

Raymond had appeared restless during the sum- 
mer, which only Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell had noticed. 
They would often catch a half sigh from his lips, and 
at times periods of deep depression. When questioned, 
he would laughingly reply that probably the duties of 
M. D. were resting heavily upon him. 

One morning in early fall, he asked his foster 
parents for an interview which was immedi'^tely 
granted. Going to the study and seating themselves, 
Raymond began, “Father, Mother, I hardly know how 
to begin. I sometimes wonder if I am glad or sorry to 
tell you that I have a slight clue to my identity. That 
for which my heart has always longed may come to me 
now, but I wonder if I wish it. You have been more 
than father and mother to me, and no matter what I 
may find my parentage to be, either saint or villian, I 
shall always be the son you have devoted your lives to 
make me. But to my story. Do you remember ‘Dutch 
Joe’ and his mother who used to live in the little hut 
hack of the saw mill? I remember how we boys used 
to be afraid to pass the old crone’s house, and often 
have chills raced up and down my spine when I caught 
her piercing black eyes fixed upon me. Well, you re- 
member, I stopped in New York for a few days, on my 
return from Europe, to study a peculiar case in one of 
the hospitals? One day, while going through the char- 
ity ward, I came upon an old withered-up woman, so 
feeble and emaciated she was blit a shadow. The at- 
tendant merely remarked ‘senility,’ and we were pass- 


46 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


ing on, when she suddenly reached out and grasped my 
hand like a vise, and whispered hoarsely, ‘R. W., R, 
W., be that yer name?’ I was startled but said, ‘Yes,. 
Raymond Wayne is my name.’ She gave a cackle and 
asked if I remembered Granny Krable. Of course I 
did, and^ asked her what I could do for her. ‘Nothin’, 
nothin’,’ she said, ‘but mebbe I could do somethin’ fer 
you. Mebbe I could die easier. R. W. be yer letters 
ben’t they? Well, my son Joe, has some papers which 
will give you more joy than they ever gave me. Ask 
him fer ’em. Show him this, and tell him that death 
has broken the seal,’ — and she fumbled, in her bosom 
and drew forth this little package. ‘Tell Joe,’ she con- 
tinued, ‘to help you find yer twin brother. Ye’d know 
him any where, for he is yer livin’ image. I’ve seen him 
since I’ve been in New York.’ These words had 
scarcely passed her lips when she fell back dead. The 
hospital records show no account of her, except she 
was found in a little hut alone andi starving. No clue 
to Joe, nothing whatever but this little package, which 
contains a wedding ring and a locket. Engraved in the 
ring is, ‘To Rose.’ The locket, as you may see has 
the picture of a most beautiful young woman, and a 
lock of soft silky hair, and bears the monogram, R. W. 
interwoven in the same intricate design as that on the 
blanket of my babyhood.” 

‘‘I thought I would return to New York to begin 
my investigation, after but a few days’ visit with you,, 
but ‘man proposes and God disposes.’ You remember 
the first evening of my arrival occurred the frightful 
accident, which ended so happily, but which none of us 
will ever forget, and I presume, according to all pre- 
cepts of romance I should have fallen in live with the 
dashing Virginia. Instead, days and weeks have gone 
by and, I find I am unable to tear myself away from 
my once dear little sister, Mary, What I’ve always 
thought to be sincere biotherly affection, has developed 
into the deep passionate love of a man. I feel, that as 
yet, she has but a sister’s love for me, and I’ve seeii 
with an aching heart, her growing interest in Mr. 
Thornton. I do not wish to stand in the way of her 
happiness, and I cannot offer her my hand and heart 
until I have ferreted out this mystery. Had this in- 
terview with Granny Krable never come up, I might 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 47 


have been satisfied to ‘let the dead past bury its dead’; 
hut now that I know some one in the world holds 
my secret, and that one of my flesh and blood is liv- 
ing, I shall not rest until I have fathomed the secret 
and found my brother. I have not told you this to ask 
you to intercede for me; but because you have the first 
Tight to my confidence, and because I must now go to 
New York to begin my search.” 

Dr. and, Mrs. Cardwell were greatly astonished at 
Raymond’s recital, but encouraged him to try to dis- 
cover his parentage and locate his brother. They told 
him that nothing would please them better than that 
he and Mary should love each other; but said that this 
was a matter for the young people to decide between 
themselves, and acceded; to Raymond’s request that 
Mary be kept in ignorance of the matters they had just 
been discussing, and in a few days Raymond left for 
New York, there to solve the problem which so mysti- 
fied him. 

Virginia, radiant and healthy, was never so happy 
as during the summer spent at Dr. Cardwell’s. Such 
days of close companionship with Mary and Ellen. She 
was intensely interested in household duties such as 
Mary had to perform, and she also employed the time 
to improve her college training in settlement work, for 
she still cherished the desire to enter the field, and 
Ellen was an enthusiastic supporter of the cause. But 
best of all such delightfully happy evenings when the 
six young people with Dr. and, Mrs. Cardwell had sped 
away in autos over many miles of country roads to re- 
turn home by the soft light of the moon, or if the 
weather forbade an outing, chafing dish suppers, games, 
and music were always at their command. 

Virginia seemed to be content to drift, she knew 
not whither and she cared not where. She only knew 
that she was happy with Harry at her side, and when 
he was away she longed for his return. Thus July 
passed into August, the heat of August and September 
into the hazy gossamer days of October. Mr. Warner, 
entirely occupied with some gigantic scheme of enlarg- 
ing his enterprise, was satisfied to have his daughter 
where he knew she was well taken care of, and where 
thoughts of the stage had never seemed to enter her 
brain. 

One pleasant evening in early October, Virginia 


48 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


and Harry were sitting on the porch alone. Virginia 
was talking of her cherished plans to do settlement 
work, and said that she had- about decided to take it 
up until she could see a path open for her future 
higher career. ^ 

Harry, looking at her as she talked so earnestly 
of the pity and misery of the poor, of which she knew 
so little, felt how helpless she would be in that hungry, 
seething mass of degenerate humanity. Leaning for- 
ward, his face pale and agitated from suppressed 
emotion, he said, “Miss Lockland, -Virginia, I cahnot 
bear to think of your risking your sweet young life in 
that polluted disease laden atmosphere. There are 
conditions and horrors'in the slums of which you have 
never dreamt, and which, I feel, will leave a pain in 
your heart that years cannot efface.” 

“I wish that it were now in my power to say all 
that my heart prompts me to say, but I must repress 
my words, for the time is not yet here when I may 
freely speak. I too, have a problem to work out, a 
problem, which in my younger days, I was taught is 
ludicrous and untrue, but which, since I began my 
present work, I find to be the highest ideal of manhood. 
To be a worker — to be one of the thousands who cause 
this old world to surge forward with such leaps and 
bounds, even though the humblest mechanic who but 
drives a rivet, if duty well performed is sounded with 
every hammer stroke — is to be entitled to as much 
credat in the world of progress as is the president of 
the road, whose keen foresight and judgment have 
earned him his- exalted station.” 

“I would have you believe that I am a man who 
cares little for wealth or power, yet feel it only justice 
to the one woman in the world to me that I wait until 
I can offer her a name to be proud of and a position as 
high as her own. Virginia, dear, I love you, and may 
I cling to a small thread of hope that some day I may 
not come in vain?” 

A feeling of great joy came over Virginia. Now 
she knew why she had been so happy, why all the sum- 
mer had been a long blissful dTeam. Harry loved her, 
and now she knew that she loved him. Yes, she could 
wait, wait for years, if he asked it, and let him solve 
his problem in his own brave, noble way; she would 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 49 


not question why. All this she told him and. much 
more, and after he had gone, Virginia felt that never, 
never again could, a cloud of sorrow cross her sky. 

A few days afterward Mr. Warner came down 
to visit Virginia. Harry was with her, but left soon 
after Mr. Warner’s arrival. As he walked down the 

path Virginia’s’ eyes followed him with a happy light. 

/ 

Mr. Warner caught the look on her face, and it startled 
him. He said, “Virginia, my child, I do not like to see 
you so interested in this young Harriman. He may be 
all right, and from appearances is a good man, hut I 
cannot consent to receive him into my home as a friend 
of my daughter. In fact, I will never look with favor 
upon any man until you have, at least, given Mr. Hol- 
comb’s son a chance. 

“Harry Holcomb, papa, I just hate the name, but 
where is he anyway? If I must meet him, I should like 
to do so at once and have it over. I am so tired of 
being thrown at this idiotic Englishman’s head that 
I feel I could strangle him. Where is he now that he 
allows you and his father to do his courting for him?” 

“Virginia, neither Mr. Holcomb nor his son know 
anything of what I have said to you. It is an idea of 
my own which I know you will guard as closely as I. 
As to where Harry Holcomb is now, his father says he 
has some hair-brained ideas of moving among the 
poorer classes and learning their manners and 
customs.” 

“Yes, I can just imagine him going around White- 
chapel, with his daintily clad feet and hands, stepping 
so high, and, handling people’s poor possessions so 
gingerly. If he could show himself a man like Mr. 
Harriman, he — ” “Virginia,” said Mr. Warner with 
rising anger, “I repeat my warning, I do not want you 
to become interested in this upstart, Harry Harriman, 
who has neither name nor position to offer you.” 

Virginia felt all the old stubborn spirit rising 
within her, and probably would have made angry re- 
tort, but just then Mary came up to say that they were 
all invited to a neighbor’s for the evening, which both 
Mr. Warner and Virginia gladly accepted, for neither 
cared to repeat the scene on the special train. 

Mrs. Rhinehart, sore, vexed, and disappointed at 
the turn her project had taken was jealous of every 
one about her. Virginia, with her happiness so ap- 


50 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


parent, had lately become her pet aversion, and she 
lost no opportunity to give a hidden taunt or covert 
sneer. She could be so cuttingly sarcastic, or so patron- 
izingly gracious, that Virginia knew not which to fear 
the more, so in self defense, evadred her when possible. 

Ellen had thought she would be able to return to 
work by the first of November, but instead came to her 
mother in tears, saying that the doctor had just told 
her that it would be a year or more before her health 
would be fully restored. Mrs. Rhinehart felt that 
she was the most abused woman in the world, and did 
not hesitate to tell Ellen as much. She accused her of 
having no pride, no ambition — she, Ellen Rhinehart, 
with the blue blood of centuries of aristocracy in her 
weins, to sit idly by 'and permit a weak, washed out 
country girl to win away a most desirable man, and 
much more in the same strain, until poor Ellen, in 
desperation, went from the house into the yard. Seat- 
ing herself, she fell to thinking of her life, her 
mother’s ambition for her, and of how utterly she had 
seemed to fail in everything. She became so despond- 
ent and discouraged, that she put her head on the back 
of the seat and sobbed bitterly. 

Virginia had just awakened from her afternoon 
nap, and not being able to find Mary, decided to go over 
and chat with Ellen. Entering the house she was 
greeted by Mrs. Rhinehait, who, to hide her ruffled 
feelings, was exceedingly gracious' and affable. They 
chatted amiably for half an hour, for Virginia felt that 
never had she liked the woman as she did today. At 
last she asked for Ellen, and was told that she was 
on the lawn a short distance from the house. Mrs. 
Rhinehart rose and went to the window to look for her 
daughter. She was at first startled at what she saw, 
but her venomous nature coming to the surface, she 
felt that now was the time to strike Virginia a cruel 
blow, even though she sacrificed her own daughter. 

Putting her finger to her lips, she gave a beatific 
smile, and beckoned Virginia to come to her side. 
“Come over here, my dear, and let me show you a 
pretty tableau — one which makes a poor old mother’s 
heart rejoice.” Virginia came and looked out to where 
Mrs. Rhinehart pointed, and there to her amazement 
saw Ellen and Harry Harriman standing together. His 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 51 

arm was about her waist, and her head was on his 
shoulder. He seemed to be deeply interested in her. 

Mrs. Rhinehart, watching Virginia closely, saw, 
with satisfaction, a deathly pallor come over 'her face* 
but the girl at once recovered herself, and with a light 
laugh, said. “I see Ellen is too occupied to care to see 
me, so I’ll return home.” 

When Harry had asked for a half day off he had 
happy thoughts of a glorious afternoon spent with Vir- 
ginia. How surprised, she would be, and how swiftly 
the hours would fly with the idol of his heart at his 
side. 

Reaching Dr. CardweF’s, Harry was informed that 
Virginia had gone over to Ellen’s and he immediately 
started across the spacious lawns- to find the girls. 
Catching a glimpse of a white scarf between the trees, 
he turned in that direction. Instead of finding the two 
girls, as he supposed^he would, he found Ellen with her 
head down and weeping. Hearing his step, before he 
had time to retreat, she sprang to her feet in an at- 
tempt to fiee, but the sudden fright he had given her, 
coupled with her extremely nervous condition, caused 
her to grow dizzy and faint. She groped blindly and 
would have fallen, had not Harry sprung to her side 
and supported her by putting his arm about her. Her 
head dropped to his shoulder, and for a few moments 
she was' hardly conscious; but recovering herself, she 
drew away and apologized for troubling him. 

Harry respected her evident grief, offered to assist 
her to the house, and being gently refused, he inquired 
for Virginia. Ellen saidi she had not seen Virginia, but 
that she might be in the house with her mother. He 
excused himself, and made his way to where Mrs. 
Rhineheart was now to be seen. That imperious lady 
received him with cool indifference, preferring to learn 
the truth from her daughter. She told him that Vir- 
ginia had spoken of going to call on a friend several 
blocks distant, whereupon Harry set out in that direc- 
tion to find her. 

When Virginia left Mrs. Rhinehart she felt as if 
the earth had fallen from beneath her feet. She went 
immediately to her room and when Harry came over 
half an hour later, plead headache, and would not see 
him. Poor Harry, his whole afternoon spoiled. He 


52 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


talked with Mary for a few minutes, then left for his. 
home. That evening he came again, but Mary said 
Virginia had kept to her room all afternoon, not even 
coming down to tea. Mary had taken a tray to her 
door, and, plead^ to be admitted, but Virginia had firm- 
ly refused. 

Harry was depressed and blue all evening, and 
went to work the next morning with a heavy heart. 
During the day, while assisting to adjust a heavy piece 
of machinery, one of the hoisting chains broke. A 
workman, at the other side of the machine, did not 
see it as it toppled and was about to fall. Harry, with 
a quick leap, jerked the man to safety, but was him- 
self struck a glancing blow on the head, rendering him 
unconscious. He was at once taken to the hospital, and 
though not seriously injured, his mind was dazed for 
several days. No one knew where hiS' home was, so no 
word was sent to either his father or to his Colton 
friends. 

It was scarce a week until he was able to return 
home; from George he learned that Virginia had taken 
a sudden notion to begin settlement work and had 
gone to her field of labor but the day before. The let- 
ter which Harry had written her, she had handed to 
George unopened, requesting him to return it to Mr. 
Harriman, with a note from herself, stating that she 
wished to drop from his life as completely as she had 
dropped him from hers, and. that her act was final. 
Harry was puzzled. George said that she had been ab- 
solutely non-committal to Mary or any of them. They 
were all at sea as to the cause of Virginia’s actions, 
but were agreed that it was useless to try to follow 
her, for the present at least. 

Prom now on, Harry threw his whole life and 
strength into his work, hoping thereby to ease his ach- 
ing heart, and so rapid was his rise that before the end 
of the year he was holding a position of trust and 
honor in the Overland shops. 

When Mr. Warner heard of Virginia’s new deter- 
mination, he at once resolved to oppose her; but upon 
second thought, remembered his former experience and 
reasoned that probably it were better for her to take up 
this bobby, and get away from that fellow Harriman, 
and forget her old whim of the stage. So, instead of 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


53 


opposing her, he consented to her plan upon one con- 
dition; which was that he be allowed to send soru'e 
one whom he trusted to escort her at night, or if at any 
time she felt the need of a protector. After debating 
with herself Virginia consented, for if her father had 
conceded a point why shouldn’t she? 

The day she left for her chosen field, M". Warner 
called Ned Sherley into his office — Ned, his trusted, 
tried, and true conductor. Who else would take so 
much interest in his little girl as Ned? He unfolded 
his plan to Sherley, asking him to go to the settle- 
ment, secure lodgings where he could always be with- 
in reach should Virginia need him, care for her as only 
he knew how her father would have him to do, and 
bring her back safe and sound to spend a Merry 
Christmas at home. 

Sherley listened with a throbbing heart, to the 
president’s words of praise, and promised that he 
would care for Virginia as though she was hie own dear 
sister, and that nothing but death itself would prevent 
his bringing her back to him. 

Virginia entered heartily into her work, and was 
so interested that when she saw conditions and suffer- 
ing that at one time would have filled her with dismay, 
they now only caused a desire to alleviate that suffer- 
ing, and to bring, about a system of living which 
would better the poor for all time. Ned was always 
ready to be at her side, and she seemed to enjoy hav- 
ing him with her. She had known him since she was 
eight years old. and had often thought that if she had 
been blessed with a brother she would want him just 
like Ned. She still called him her big brother and con- 
fided in him as when a child. 

One evening, when they were out making calls, 
a fire broke ’out in the tenement district. The crowds 
thronged the streets until it was impossible for them 
to make their way home. Ned drew Virginia into a 
doorway, where she gazed seemingly entranced at the 
lurid flames leaping high into the air. Ned drew her 
hand within his arm saying. “Don’t look, Virginia, if 
it frightens you so.” Virginia caught her breath, “O, 
Ned,” she said, “do you know a fire always has the 
most terrible fascination for me. It terrifies me, yet 
I cannot keep my eyes from it. Do you believe in 


54 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


hereditary fear? I ask because my father has some 
cruel scars upon his neck and arms, which I am very 
sure were caused by fire, but about which he will 
never speak. Several times, when jel child, I have 
asked him about them, but he seemed to be so filled 
with horror and dread at the thought, that lately I 
have not questioned him. Since I am grown, a fire 
seems to create in me just the same dreadful feeling 
that I have seen depicted in his eyes.” — “Ned,” and her 
hand crept into his, “dear old brother Ned, you will 
take care of your sister, won’t you? I know I am 
foolish, but this fire, the thought of papa, and these 
woeful faces about me have quite upset my nerves.” 

Ned clasped the little hand which had been placed 
so confidingly in his, and said, “Care for my little sis- 
ter? I would gladly give my life for her. She shall 
never know care nor sorrow if it is in my power to 
prevent it.” 

How calmly he spoke, but how he longed to clasp 
her in his arms and tell her how he loved her. How 
she bad been his gu’ding light through sunshine and 
shadow, and how all that he was or ever hoped, to be 
was due to his love for her. But Ned knew that he 
was but Sherley the conductor; and she, Virginia 
Warner, the president’s daughter. 

As they walked home both were preoccupied and 
spoke but little. As Ned was leaving Virginia at the 
door, he said, “Virginia, I have never tried to advise 
you about persona,! matters, but for your own safety, 
let me make a request. I have noticed that you’ve laid 
aside all of your jewels except those handsome diamond 
earrings. I have felt it unsafe this long time for you 
to wear them, but tonight I noticed a particularly vil- 
lianous looking man eyeing them sharply, which I fear 
bodes no good.” 

Virginia laughed lightly. “Why Ned, I believe 
the fire has gotten on your nerves, too. I am sorry I 
cannot comply with your request, but these were my 
mother’s. Father gave them to me on my eighteenth 
birthday, and, I’ve worn them ever since. I would feel 
lost without them. I do not fear danger from these 
people. If you could see how gladly they welcome me 
when I enter their homes, and how the little ones cling 
to me when I leave, you would not believe su^h sinister 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 55 


things of them. Again Ned begged her to leave them 
off, but she began talking of other things, and soon said, 
“Good night.” 

Virginia’s work went on tirelessly. She threw her- 
self heart and soul into it, determined to forget her 
summer at Colton, and that there was ever such a 
person on earth as Harry Harriman. She never 
seemed wearied of climbing dingey flights of steps, 
caring for the sick, petting a baby, or teaching some 
poor ignorant mother how to tidy her home. She 
usually started for her work at nine in the morning, at 
which time Ned showed up to get her plans for the day. 

One cold morning at about half past eight, a little 
girl came to the Home and asked for Miss Lockland. 
She was crying and raid that the baby was dying, and 
would “the lady” please come to her mother. Vir- 
ginia hurriedly left with the child, not forgetting to 
'leave^word for Ned to follow at once, as she probably 
would need him. 

They soon reached the rickety tenement called 
home. Going up a flight of steps, she turned to the 
right and opened the door. The scene of squalor 
which greeted her did not shock Virginia, for she had 
often been here before. She immediately went over to 
the bed where lay the emaciated, form of a child about 
three years old. Her practiced eye told her at a glance, 
that all earthly help was past, so she turned to com- 
fort the stricken mother and care for the hungry 
children. As she was busy trying to light a Are with 
the m.eager fuel at hand, she heard a half snarl, half 
chuckle from the doorway. She looked up quickly, 
while the startled children drew closer to their mother. 

Slouching against the door frame, was, to Virginia, 
the worst looking specimen of humanity she had ever 
seen. With brutal features, black stringey hair, and 
blood-shot eyes, coupled with a plainly intoxicated con- 
dition, the man was enough to make a stouter heart 
quail. Virginia was frightened, but went on about her 
work. 

“An’ wot d’ye tink ye’r doin’ now? Come t’ see the 
youngun kick the bucket? Well, I jes’ tipped th’ bucket, 
ye see,” he sdid. with a leer and a chuckle. 

Virginia rose from in front of the stove and re- 
plied, “O, I was just trying to coax a little fire into the 


56 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


stove. It is bitter cold and the children are suffering 
so.” — “Your baby is gone,” she said gently, “so. now 
we must care for the living. Would you mind going 
down to get a loaf of bread and some milk? — and I 
will try to fix up a little breakfast.” She felt that she 
must get him out of the house, at least until Ned 

came, for well she knew faithful Ned would follow her. 

“Get ye some bread and milk sh’d I? Sure, me 
beauty, but first I must have a kiss from yer purty lips, 
and them ear bobs wat I seen, dec’rated ye so purty 
tother night, an’ if ye make a noise this knife’ll fix ye.” 
And the man began edging toward her, while his wife 
and children crouched in a corner sobbing audibly. 

Virginia was transfixed with horror, but knew 
that she must keep her senses and fight for her life. 
Oh, if Ned would only come. The villian was drawing 
nearer and nearer, seeming to take delight in playing 

with her as a cat with a mouse. .Just then she 

heard a quick, ringing step on the stair. “Ned!” she 
screamed. The villian maddened at possible defeat, 
raised high his knife to strike. Ned bounded in, took 
in the situation at a glance, and leaped between them — 
and the knife intended for Virginia was plunged deep 
into his side. 

Though badly wounded,' he grappled with the man. 
Out into the hall they struggled, Ned growing percep- 
tibly weaker, when the man, by an adroit turn of the 
foot, tripped him and both plunged head’ong down the 
steps'. 

The villian shook himself free, and turned to run, 
but was almost instantly seized by an officer. But Ned 
lay white and still with the blood gushing from his 
wound. 

Virginia hurried down and could only stammer 
incoherent answers to the policeman’s questions. Soon 
an ambulance rushed up and Ned was borne to it, Vir- 
ginia accompanying them to the hospital where she 
waited in agony until the doctor appeared. “How is 
he? Oh tell me he is not badly hurt,” she moaned. The 
doctor told her that Ned’s wound was fatal, and that 
his rel^itives and friends should be notified at once. 

“He has no relatives, and we are his only friends. 
How long has he to live, doctor, and may I see him?” 
asked Virginia. “Yes, he has asked for you. You may 
go to him, it will do him no harm.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


57 


Virginia followed the nurse to the room where 
Ned lay pale as marble. As she entered, his face lighted 
with its old cheery smile, as he said, “Have they told 
you, dearie?” Virginia put down her face and sobbed 
as though her heart would break. “Oh, Ned, Ned, 
don’t die and leave your little sister. I need you so 
much. How can I live without your big strong nature 
to guide me. I cannot, cannot let you die. To know 
that you have given your dear, noble life for me is 
more than I can bear; the world has seemed so cruelly 
false to me lately, but you have always been the same 
true hearted, noble Ned of years ago.”' 

Ned’s eyes brightened. “Virginia, I may tell you 
now, for it will do no barm, and it will make me so 
happy. Darling, I love you. I have loved you since 
you were a little girl flitting in and out and I was just 
Ned, the poor train boy. All that was sweet in my 
life you have made for me. I have always known that 
I could never reveal my love for you in life, and now I 
ask no greater happiness than to die for you. — Dearie, 
the doctor says I am going fast — could you, would you 
kiss me before I go?” 

Virginia who had been sobbing during his ^ con- 
fession now clasped his nerveless hands into her own, 
bent over and kissed him upon the lips. One long sigh 
of happiness. “Little sweetheart,” he murmured — and 
Virginia was alone. 

Mr. Warner came immediately upon receipt of 
Virginia’s telegram, and they at once took Ned’s re- 
mains home for burial. 

Mr, Warner found his daughter very much affected 
and, subdued by what she had just experienced. For 
weeks afterward she could not get it from her mind 
that it was her wilfulness that had caused Ned’s death; 
for had she laid aside her diamonds as he had re- 
quested, she probably would have escaped insult from 
the drunken villian. Dear fellow, how little she had 
known of his love for her, and how noble his sacrifice. 

The thought of Harry and his perfidy made her 
burn with fury. Why was the world to ordained, that 
the man who loved her should be compelled to worship 
in silence, and that other man whom she had loved so 
dearly, should be such a traitor? 

Her mind and heart were still filled with these 
thoughts and feelings, when one day her father called 


58 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


her into the library saying: “Virginia, my dear child, I 
have not asked you to entertain friends, nor to help me 
do so while your grief was so fresh in your mind, 
but now, I feel that my duty compels me to be agree- 
able to an old friend who will be in the city for a short 
time. It is Mr. Holcomb, who will probably bring one 
of his men with him. I have asked them to dinner. 
We have been negotiating for some time, with a view 
to extending our lines over a vast territory. Co- 
operation is necessary to obtain this result, and while 
I am confident that it is a good move to make, Mr. Hol- 
comb is as yet undecided. This man knows the bus- 
iness thoroughly. His rise has been rapid, but Mr. Hol- 
comb says he has deserved it, so on Holcomb’s recom- 
mendation I have consented to include him in the con- 
ference. I wish you to be especially agreeable and 
courteous to him, for it appears he has great influence 
over Mr. Holcomb, and I feel that the deal hinges al- 
m.ost altogether upon this fellow’s word.” “All right, 
papa,” said Virginia, “I shall be glad if I can help you 
in any way. When do you expect them?” — “Tomor- 
row evening, thank you, dear.” 

The next evening, Mr. Warner and Virginia were 
in the library awaiting the arrival of their guests. The 
varied experiences of the past six mpnths had only 
served to enhance the remarkable beauty of Virginia’s 
face. Then she was a light-hearted girl with never a 
thought of the future, today she was a woman who 
had known some of the sorrows and cares of the world, 
and never had she looked so queenly beautiful as to- 
night, when with a gracious smile upon her lips she 
advanced to meet her father’s guests, Mr. Holcomb 
and — Harry Harriman! 


# 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


59 * 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Raymond Wayne sped on to New York, strong in 
his purpose to leave no stone unturned in solving the 
mystery of his' birth. Though he was perservering to- 
a fault, resourceful above the ordinary, and patient be- 
yond his own expectation, his quest ended in failure. 
The iron chain of past events would, yield no links. Re- 
turning disheartened to his hotel late one frosty night,, 
his upturned gaze drank in the light of the silent stars 
and his spirits revived as he said to himself, ‘“Yet a 
little longerl Oh, Thou who watchest through the ages-, 
give me patience to work the puzzle — In thine own 
good time.” 

Setting his face westward, Wayne arrived in Chi- 
cago, where he attended a series- of post-graduate 
lectures pertaining to a part of his profession which 
had always fascinated him. One morning as he hastened 
up Halstead street, he met a newsboy who thrust forth 
a hand red with cold, grasping a few papers and piped 
out in a shrill treble voice, “Record-Herald! Tribune! 
Examiner! — Paper, sir?” “I don’t care if I do,” said 
Wayne, as he fumbled in his pocket for a coin and 
strode on. “Ye jarred loose from yer ear muffs- 
called the lad, handing them to Wayne, who had 
dropped, them while paying for his paper. “Keep them, 
if j^ou like,” said Wayne “I hate them anyway.” — 
“Sure ye hain’t handin’ me a lemon?” querried the 
urchin with dubious look. “After a day’s trial you will 
use no other,” laughed the doctor, and passed hurriedly 
on. 

Next morning the same red fist and freckled face 
greeted him on the corner and the earmuffs were on 
duty. The third morning the lad accosted him suddenly 
with, “Be ye a doctor?”— “I claim to be,” answered 
Wayne, “why?” — “Cause I wish’t ye could cure Esau 
and I believe ye could, only if I had the rocks,” said 
the lad, his eager eyes shining. — “Who’s Esau and 
what’s the matter with him,” asked Wayne. “My 
brother, and he’s got a cough, but he hain’t got na 
chance — he’ll never pull through,” and the discour- 


6o THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


aged boy’s eyes dropped as he scraped his toe along 
the icy pavement. “Where do you live? Might I see 
the lad,” asked the physician suddenly interested. 
' “Bet yer life ye kin, jes toiler yer leader,” and diving 
through various streets and alleys he at length ar- 
rived at a tenement house with Wayne at his heels. 

On the way the boy had told his companion in 
substance that they were too poor to seek medical aid. 
When asked how many in family, he said, “They’s a set 
of us boys.” — “A set?” — “Yep, they’s six — countin’ 

Esau what’s most gone.” — “Are your father and 
, mother living?” inquired his friend. “Don’t know a 
bloomin thing about dad, but maw’s alive all right. She 
scolds like fury, but you mustn’t mind her.” Wayne 
said he wouldn’t mind and followed the boy up three 
flights of stairs into a poorly furnished, badly lighted, 
and never ventilated room, where a tall, raw-boned, 
thin-haired woman was placing a few dishes in a for- 
lorn cupboard. In one corner was a dilapidated bed, in 
another a cracked and rusty stove that burned the 
vilest coal, and near a dingy window, in a wabbly chair, 
a pale, fair-haired, blue-eyed boy of seven, wrapped in 
a disreputable blanket. The only spot of beauty in 
the room was a bunch of violets in a cracked teacup on 
the window sill. 

As the door creaked the woman who “scolded like 
fury” turned and her sharp voice rang out with, 
“What brings ye home so soon, Abe? ’Taint ten yit.” 
— “Here’s a doctor,” replied the lad, “what wanted to 
see Esau and I brung im,” and Abe led the way to the 
pale boy who coughed violently. “And wot would ye do 
for the like’s of us wot can’t pay?” asked the woman as 
she studied Wayne’s face. “We shall see,” replied 
Wayne quietly, “I will do what I can.” — “The Lord be 
praised,” exclaim.ed Abe’s “Maw,” “I’ll work my 
Anger nails off to pay ye, if ye can cure him,” she 
cried. “Seems like I couldn’t work no harder’n I do 
now, but I will if it kills me,” and she wiped her wet 
hands on her apron and set out the only chair for 
Wayne, who was making an examination of Esau, tak- 
in the surroundings and listening to “maw’s” talk all 
at once. 

Disease was so deeply fastened on the poor boy 
that there seemed no probability of ever conquering it. 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 6i 


and the young physician feared Abe had diagnosed the 
case perfectly when he had so laconically said, “Most 
gone with a cough.” But he readily saw that this was 
a case in which he might ease the last days of the dying 
hoy and he determined to do what he could to alleviate 
his suffering while he remained in Chicago. 

Other visits followed in which he learned the 
family history. Here it is as told by Abe’s “maw”: 

“We come here from Peory. My man, Israel, 
thought he could make more workin’ at odd jobs here, 
an’ he did fer a while; then luck left ’im and he started 
out West. Some day he’ll send fer us or he’ll come 
trampin’ back home. ’Till then me an’ the kids stick 
together an’ live somehow. The worst is not havin’ the 
right things fer the sick kid.” “How many kids did ye 
say?” “Six, an’ the ole man was bound to give ’em all 
Bible names, because they was all the children of 
Israel. The fust was Abraham — he’s ten; then Isaac — 
he’s eight; then the twinS' — Jacob and Esau — what’s 
seven. Nothin' would do but the next must be named 
Moses — he’s four; an’ this little red headed young’in is 
David. He squalls mostly all the time. Them’s their 
names, but the kids don’t hardly know ’em. Abe, Ike, 
Jake, Mose, an’ Dave is enough fer ’em. Esau is the 
only one what get the frills an’ he won’t be here long.” 

Wayne also found out that the lot of this little 
Esau was made more endurable by a certain young lady 
known as a settlement worker. “Different from most 
of ’em” said Abe’s “maw,” “She’s got sense above the 
average. Don’t treat ye as if ye was dirt under her 
feet, or as if she was afraid of smallpox. Miss Rhine- 
hart makes a sight over Esau, bringin’ flowers, and 
picters, and books, and cushions, and things.” 

But Wayne never met Miss Rhinehart, though he 
always hoped, to find her at Abe’s- and he lamed to 
valued her work and her character more highly than 
he had ever thought he could. He wished he could 
tell her of the noble work she did and how her efforts 
helped him in his attempt to alleviate the suffering of 
the sick boy. 

The day before Wayne left Chicago he called on 
Abe’s family, prescribed for Esau, who was gradually 
growing weaker, left medicine, books, fruit, and some 
igames for the little ones, and bade them good-bye. 


62 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


“Miss Rhinehart will do all she can for you and I’ll 
hunt you up -when I come back to the city.” Then he- 
was gone. 

That afternoon, Miss Rhinehart, bearing carna- 
tions and a glass of jelly for Esau, climbed up the 
stairs to inquire after her little patient, and heard a 
long eulogy from Abe’s “maw” on the young doctor 
who had helped but could not cure her son. “After he 
was done gone, Mose come a carryin’ this parcel to me. 
He picked it up right where the doctor set and had 
tuck so many things outen his pockets, he didn’t miss 
it. I’d send hit to ’im, but I don’t know where to send 
hit. Won’t you take hit and send hit to ’im. Miss 
"Rhinehart? Hit might be somethin’ valyable.” 

Miss Rhinehart took the package, turned it over 
and as she did so out rolled a ring and locket, each 
bearing in strange device, R. W. “R. W.,” said Miss 
Rhinehart, “as I suspected, Raymond Wayne, yes. I’ll 
send it to him.” 

Soon taking her leave, she wended her way by 
devious streets to her own lodging where she and her 
mother had taken up their abode. The mother, whose 
ambition only slumbered, always sought to win her 
daughter from her chosen work and place her in aris- 
tocratic ranks by a fortunate marriage. She loved her 
daughter but she loved position more. Of late her 
health had failed. Financial worries had nearly 
brought on nervous prostration. When Ellen entered 
their apartment this evening her mother startled from 
a light sleep, and some time elapsed before she could be 
quieted. 

Ellen loved her mother and her life was a daily 
sacrifice to the whims and wishes of the ambitious 
woman. On one thing, however, Ellen was- firm: No 
more matrimonial schemes. Her experience of the 
previous summer was too humiliating to be repeated. 
Wishing to interest her mother and take her mind 
from her unhappy self, Ellen told of her visit to the 
children of Israel. • Knowing her mother’s aversion to 
her work she very rarely alluded to any incident how- 
ever interesting to herself, but today, seeing her 
mother’s extreme nervous and restless state of mind, 
she eagerly sought some subject of conversation, and 
this was uppermost in her mind. So she told her 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 63 


mother of the sacred set of children, of their quaint 
•says, of the mother’s tact and honesty, with all her 
poverty. Mrs. Rhinehart seemed unusually pleased at 
the recital and Ellen, equally pleased, told her of Dr. 
Wayne’s visits to the family, and finally, of his loss and 
of Ahe’s mother’s honesty. “I will return 'the locket 
and ring tomorrow,” said Ellen, as she handed them 
toward her mother. “See, is it not a queer device. R. 
W. interwoven?” “A ring! a locket!” cried her mother, 
starting up wildly. “A ring and locket! R. W.! R. 
W!” she screamed, “But no, it cannot he R. W. Let 
me see the letters.” — “My God! My God!” she 
shrieked, clutching the jewels with death-like grip, as- 
she fell back on the pillow in a dead faint. 

All night Ellen strove to revive her mother, but 
conscousness failed, and all night the wretched woman 
<;lutched the ring and locket with the strange device. 

Virginia Warner had returned home, pleased to be 
of assistance to her father, whom she loved with all 
her heart. The afternoon mail brought n letter from 
Mary Cardwell. “Bonnie Mary,” murmured Virginia, 
“a perfect dove of peace,” who writes; “Mother is 
happy with her birds, and flowers, and books, while 
she is at home, and is of great help to father in his 
practice. She knews of all the poor and needy. She is 
as good as a trained nurse in many cases, and father 
sometimes takes me with him and says his daughter is 
a chip off the old block. O Virginia, never will I for- 
get the joy of last summer, a happy dream, with but 
one shock, your sudden departure without seeing or 
speaking of Harry Harriman. I know you will tell 
me the trouble some time, but I wonder and wonder. 

“And oh! Virginia, I cannot tell you of myself 
without telling you of another with whom I have had 
such happy association. If there ever was a perfect 
man, that man surely is George Thornton. You and 
Ellen told me last summer thnc he had eyes for no one 
but me, and I think he really loves me, but he has 
never exactly said so. But he adds to my joy daily by 
the delightful interviews and conversations which are 
lengthened to hours. It seems, before he left New 
York he contracted to furnish an art collector with a 
group of pictures representing the leading characters in 
Tennyson’s ‘Idyls of the King.’ Mr. Thornton has 
asked me to sit for Elaine, the ‘Lilly Maid of Astolat. 


64 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


Why, I can never tell you. So, most delightful meetings^ 
occur in our parlor with mother as critic, for Mr. 
Thornton says she really has remarkable artistic taste. 
But ‘never a day so sunny but a little cloud appears.’ 
The delightful times must soon cease. Old things will 
have passed away, for as soon as this ‘Elaine’ is 
finished Mr. Thornton must leave for Old Mexico in 
search of local color for a great painting which is to ap- 
pear in the Art Exhibit next year. He says it must 
add to bis fame in America and for that reason he is 
choosing an American name and scene for his painting. 
Mr. Thornton very strangely told me of his ambitions 
and of his future plans. His eyes shone as I have never 
seen them as he asked me if he might come again when 
his picture was judged by the exhibit committee. ‘I’ll 
have more to say to you then,’ he said, and left so ab- 
ruptly that I should have been offended had it been 
any one but Mr. Thornton. 

“My dear Virginia, I heve told you a good deal 
about myself in this letter, but one thing more I must 
tell, and that is I love you dearly; wherever you may 
be, I shall love you always. MARY.” 

“Happy the man who secures such a jewel for his 
wife,” sighed Virginia, and for a moment the old pain 
came to her heart as she thought that Harry Harriman 
had once appeared a hero in her eyes. “But no more 
of this,” she cried,” or I will be sniveling when I must 
look my best for father’s guests.” Everything was 
ready for the dinner party. Radiant in shimmering 
silk with the diamond earrings and necklace which her 
father loved to see her wear, her dark hair an artist’s 
diream, her eyes beaming with love, Virginia paused on 
the stair to gaze at her father, seated before the grate, 
his gray head bowed upon his hands, his whole figure 
speaking the loneliness which the daughter knew he 
must feel so keenly. A wave of regret passed over her 
that in her selfish desire for fame she should neglect 
her first duty to her father and her home. Mary Card- 
well’s loving influence was at work with her will, and 
Virginia silently vowed that, come what would, she 
would love and comfort her lonely father. With this 
thought — expressed plainly on her beautiful coun- 
tenance, small wonder that he embraced her with a 
caress that was fatal to bodice and hair as he choked 
out gruffly, “Don’t leave me again, Virginia, I can’t get 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 65 


along without you.” — “Never again, papa, never 
again,” and she patted .him on the cheek. “You’re 
better than the stage and I can help the settlement and 
still stay with you.” — “That’s my own little girl 
again,” said the railroad president in great glee. Just 
then a servant announced, “Mr. Holcomb; Mr. Harry 
Holcomb.” Mr. Warner turned to meet his guests and 
shook hands warmly with old Mr. Holcomb. “How do 
you do, Mr. Holcomb? I certainly am glad to receive 
you tonight and to have you meet my daughter, Virginia, 
sir. Very glad to meet your son.” Then turning to the 
• young man back of Mr. Holcomb, Mr. Warner gasped 
as he extended his hand. “Your son? Is this your son? 
What joke is this, sir?” sputtered Warner. Young 
Holcomb felt the floor sinking as he gazed past his 
father to the gentleman he had met as Mr. Lockland, 
and the house rocked as his dazed senses descried, the 
beautiful Miss Lockland beside her father and being 
presented to his father. “Was there ever such a muss,” 
thought Harry, who, with a gigantic struggle, pressed 
Mr. Warner’s hand with an almost crushing force. “No 
joke, I assure you. All dead earnest to me.” 

When Virginia first saw Harry, she turned pale as 
her silk gown, then intuitively divining the truth, the 
blood rushed back to her cheeks creating a vision of 
beauty with which “no rose could compare.” — “Very 
welcome, Mr. Holcomb, and a very delightful surprise,” 
she exclaimed with her brightest smile. Harry felt his 
senses reel as he mechanically .bowed over the hand of 
the beautiful Virginia. The thought that the beauty 
was laughing at him spurred him to greater effort, and 
he acted the part of a perfect society man. 

Mr. Warner, flourishing his handkerchief in his ex- 
citement, was about to ask an explanation, when supper 
was announced, and placing Virginia’s hand on Grand- 
pa Tom’s arm he motioned her to proceed to the dining 
room, and he followed with the young man he had 
sworn that Virginia must not love. 


66 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


CHAPTER IX. 

Mary Cardwell sat at her desk with a thoughtful 
and not altogether happy look on her face. She had 
just finished reading a letter from Virginia, and it 
troubled her. Among other things it did not sound 
like her friend. She read it again: 

“My dearest Mary: Since receiving your good 
letter, se^’^eral things have transpired that have been 
very upsetting — to Virginia. Since an ‘honest confession 
is good for the soul’ I’ll try it, and may my soul 
prosper. 

“Speaking of Harry Hariman, I’ll confess that my 
heart had about surrendered and ‘gone over to the 
enemy’ when I saw something that it does not seem 
possible can ever be explained. 

“You perhaps remember, several days before I 
left you I went over one afternoon to see El’en. Her 
mother waS' alone in the drawing room av x seemed 
remarkably pleasant. You know she ha/ singled me 
out for her displeasure and sarcasm, an/, other com- 
forting things, all summer,' but ‘every dog has his- day’ 
and this was- mine — apparently, so I remained talking 
awhile with her before asking for Ellen. When I did 
so, she told me Ellen was somewhere on the lawn and 
went to the window to look. She beckoned me to her 
with a beaming smile and there under the trees a short 
distance away were Ellen and Harry Harriman — he 
with his arm around her, and she with her head on his 
shoulder. After what had passed between us, you will 
not be surprised that I was greatly disturbed, but not 
caring to have that woman gloating over me, I smiled 
blandly and said something about Ellen’s being other- 
wise engaged and that I would not disturb her. Alas! 
‘Men were deceive|*s ever’! 

“At the end of a week, as you know, I returned 
home, where I have been wearing a ‘false front’ and 
trying to be a comfort to my dear old Daddy. However 
‘men have died and worms have eaten them, but not ' 
for love,’ and I do not propose to ‘shuflle off this mortal 
coil’ just at present for love or anything else. 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 67 

“Last night father had invited company to dinner, 
Grandpa Tom and his son Harry. When the servant 
announced ‘Mr. Holcomb; Mr. Harry Holcomb’ — who 
do you imagine it was? — None other than Mr. Holcomb 
and Harry Harriman. Truly ‘All the world’s a stage, 
and all its men and women merely players.’ 

“Of course explanations were entered into as to 
‘who is who, and why’ and everything passed off pleas- 
antly enough, on the surface at least. 

“I suppose I am selfish in talking of my own 
affairs before expressing my joy over your happy pros- 
pects. Of course it is a little early for that, but things 
seem to be coming your way. May all your dreams 
come true, Mary. I hope George Thornton realizes 
what a lucky man he is. If he proves as ideal a bene- 
dict as he is in his chosen profession, I think I see you 
going through life ‘on flowery beds of ease’ — Dear 
Mary, here’s hoping! 

“Give my best love to the good father and mother, 
and write soon to 

“Yours as ever, 

“VIRGINIA WARNER.” 

“Something must be done and done quickly,” 
soliloquized Mary, as she finished reading the letter. 
“Things are in desperate straits. — The idea that two 
sensible people so perfectly suited to one another, are 
separated by some trifling thing that probably could be 
•easily explained. It cannot be entertained for a 
moment. They must be brought together soon and 
then surely, ‘love will find a way.’ ” 

She picked up her pen and after nibbling it 
thoughtfully for a moment, she began writing. She 
wrote a long and loving letter to Virginia and In the 
•end said she was positively famishing for a sight of her 
face. She must come and make her a visit, a short one 
if positively necessary, but a long one if possible. Any- 
way, come! 

She then wrote to Harry Holcomb and gave him a 
cordial invitation to run down for a few days’ visit. 
The city seemed so distressingly healthy that Raymond 
had more leisure than he knew how to employ and 
would be delighted to see him. 


68 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


She addressed the envlopes hurriedly and enclos- 
ing the letters she hastened to catch a passing postman. 

Returning to her desk, she fell into a brown study> 
considering ways and means. Would her scheme work? 
or would the breach between the self-willed pair be 
widened? Time alone would tell. She sat thinking 
until the dusk of evening fell, and she was startled 
when dinner was announced. “Poor Virginia,” she said, 
as she hastily put away her letter, “with all her trials 
and tribulations, it is small wonder she makes a square 
fold for a long envelope. Mary never dreamed of the 
long fold in the square envelope that the postman bore 
away. 

Like a giant skeleton against a smoky sky, rose 
the steel framework of the Consolidated Trust build- 
ing. The streets below were blockaded with great 
stones and heaps of concrete. Trowels rang not un- 
musically on fireproof brick. Riveting hammers 
clanged harshly as they set the red hot rivets. A noisy 
engine puffed away in its little temporary shed in the 
street below. Cables creaked querulously as they 
hoisted a great steel girder into position. It had not 
been properly balanced and as it was lifted skyward, it 
failed to answer to the guide rope and careening in- 
ward it swept a workman from his narrow scaffold. A 
foreman forced his way quickly to the side of the in- 
jured man and finding him unconscious called out 
“Send for Dr. Bob quick! Joe is hurt.” 

Dr. Robert Warfield, or “Dr, Bob,” as he was 
familiarly called by the workmen, with whom he 
was a great favorite, was- the company physician. He 
appeared quickly on the scene. After a brief exam- 
ination the ambulance was called and the man was 
taken to the hopsital. The doctor remained there 
watching him and working with him all night. The 
poor fellow was very restless, suffering intensely, ex- 
cept when under the infiuence of opiates. He had sus- 
tained internal injuries and the doctor was naturally 
uncertain what the outcome would be. In the morning 
Joe’s eyes opened and he looked at Dr. Warfield solemn- 
ly for a few minutes, then said, “Doctor, am I going 
to croak?” 

The doctor hardly knew how to answer him, but 
after a slight hesitation said, “Well, Joe, you are pretty 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 69 


badly knocked out, but I hope to pull you through. 
Still, if you have anything of importance that needs at- 
tention, I would advise you to see to it.” 

Joe lay there thinking awhile, then asked the 
doctor to send to his boarding house and get a box he 
would find in a certain place and bring it to him. 

Dr. Warfield went himself and found the box. Re- 
turning with it he found Joe, while suffering greatly, 
ready for business. He directed the doctor to open the 
box and take out a package which he would find. Dr. 
Warfield did this, and as he lifted the packet which 
was enclosed in a wrapper, he started back with an ex- 
clamation of astonishment. On the back of it he saw 
the strangely interwoven monogram, “R. W.” 


70 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


CHAPTER X. 

Ellen having spent the night in trying to restore 
her mother to consciousness, decided to call in medical 
assistance. She could think of no one who would be 
apt to understand her mother’s case better than Dr. 
Cardwell, but he was too far away, as she began to feel 
her mother demanded immediate attention. She next 
thought of Dr. Wayne and he wa& sent for post-haste; 
and upon his arival found Mrs. Rhinehart still In a de- 
lirium. Through the combined efforts of Ellen and the 
doctor she soon regained consciousness and began to 
look around as though trying to gather up the frag- 
ments of her scattered thoughts. During the night, 
Ellen had succeeded in removing the ring and locket 
from the clutched, hand of the wretched woman, and 
wrapping them up in the original package, placed it in 
a little purse that hung from her belt. 

Upon the arrival of Dr. Wayne, she gave it to him 
with a few hasty words of explanation. He recognized 
it and thanked her for returning it to him, saying he 
had discovered his loss the evening before while pack- 
ing his trunk preparatory to a trip to New York - that 
it was' his intention to advertise his loss in the morn- 
ing paper, offering a reward for its return, 

Mrs. Rhinehart, after partaking of some nourish- 
ment, /began to show some little improvemBnt. The 
doctor inquiring of Ellen if she knew of any cause for 
her mother’s sudden attack, was told of her nervous 
condition upon her arrival home, and of her agitation 
upon seeing the contents of the package Abe’s mother 
had given her, and of her final lapse into unconscious- 
ness. 

Dr. Wayne was deeply interested in her recital and 
determined to find out if possible what Mrs, Rhinehart 
knew of the secret of his parentage. Accordingly he 
took the hand of the sick woman in his, and lightly 
pressing his skilled fingers upon her wrist, found to his 
disappointment the pulsations weak and uncertain, and 
seeing in her weakened condition the sick woman 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


71 


could bear no further nervous strain at this time, he, 
after giving Ellen some directions, and assuring her 
that her mother was in no danger, and would soon re- 
cover, took his departure, saying he wished to catch 
the Twentieth Century Limited for New York. 


Mrs. Rhinehart soon sank into a quiet, restful 
sleep, which lasted for several hours. Ellen reclining 
on a couch in the same room also secured a little much 
needed rest. AVhen her mother awoke, she could see 
at a glance that she was herself again. “You are 
better now, mother?” she asked. “Yes, T am better,” 
said her mother. “Ellen, what became of those 
trinkets you were showing me — that locket and ring? 
I would like so much to see them again.” — “Mother, 
they belonged to Dr. Wayne, and I gave them to him 
when he was here this morning,” said Ellen, “he went 
to New York today, and as soon as he returns, he said 
he would come to see you. Now do not think any 
more about it, mother, or you will make yourself ill 
again.” — “R. W. — Dr. Wayne — Raymond — you say his 
name is, Ellen?” — “Yes, mother” — “How strange,” 
said Mrs. Rhinehart, “I have some good news, mama, 
Virginia has invited us to her home for a week’s visit 
with them,” saying she has lost none of her interest in 
my work, and that she wishes to consult with me in 
regard to a plan she has to help me.” This is what she 


says: 

“Since I left the Settlement after poor Ned’s death, 
I have wished I might do something to help on the 
work, and have made up my mind to ask my father to 
build a settlement house, such as I know is needed in 
the part of the city where your work is, and I want 
you, Ellen, to come, and perhaps together we can per- 
suade him to do so. It is my thought to have it 
erected upon the site of the tenement where poor Ned 
was so cruelly murdered. I suppose you know, Ellen, 
the perpetrator of that awful deed after his arrest be- 
came insane and soon died. So eager am I to carry 
out these plans, if papa cannot be induced to help me, 
I will use the inheritance received from my mother. 
Hoping to receive a favorable reply from you soon, I 


remain. 


“Yours ever, 

“VIRGINIA.” 


72 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


Glancing up as she finished reading the letter, 
Ellen saw that her mother slept once more, and quietly 
leaving the room, she went to her desk and wrote to 
Virginia, thanking her for her kind invitation and tell- 
ing her as soon as her mother was better, they would 
he only too glad to come. “I cannot express in mere 
words,” she said, “the joy I feel at the prospect of 
having the strongest desire of my heart gratified.” 
“With a home such as you mention, the little good we 
do would be multiplied many times.” “Your letter 
came as a glad surprise, and cheered and encouraged 
me greatly.” “Hoping nothing will arise to frustrate 
your noble plans, I shall eagerly await the time when 
I shall see you face to face. 

“Gratefully yours, 

“ELLEN.” 


Mary opened her desk the next morning to finish 
up some work for her father. Glancing over the papers 
she noticed a folded sheet of note paper lying a little 
to one side; picking it up she unfolded it and read the 
note she had written to Harry Holcomb, inviting him 
to come for a few days’ visit. She wondered how it 

came to be there, when she had sealed and mailed it 

the evening before. She laid it aside, and began to 

search for the letter she had received from Virginia, 

but it was not to be found. She wondered still more at 
this, and as she sat for a few moments thinking, the 
truth dawned upon her. 

She turned first red and then white, and rushing 
from the room she sought her mother — “Mama, mama, 
what shall I do?” — “Why, Mary,” exclaimed Mrs. 
Cardwell, “what is the matter?” — “O! mother. I have 
made such a mistake. You know the letter I received 
from Virginia yesterday.” — “Yes,” said her mother, 
encouragingly. “Well, I have done something with it, 
I don’t know what,” sobbed Mary. — “Don’t know what 
you have done with it?” queried her mother. “No, I 
cannot find it anywhere. You see it was like this: I 
thought to try to make peace between Harry and Vir- 
ginia, and so I wrote to tliem both and asked them to 
come down. I found the note I wrote to Harry on the 
desk and Virginia’s letter to me, gone.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 73 


“Mrs. Cardwell remained buried in thought, for a 
few moments, as Mary continued, “You see, ‘ mama, I 
have not the remotest idea which of the letters I en- 
closed in those envelopes I mailed last night. Oh! sup- 
posing I have sent Virginia’s letter to Harry!’’ “This 
is certainly unfortunate,” said Mrs. Cardwell. ”0, 
yes,” said Mary, “if Harry should read that letter of 
Virginia’s” — and then she stopped, and brightening up 
a little, “Well maybe it would be a good thing if he 
— but,” and her face clouded once more, “what 
would Virginia think of me if she knew I, through 
earelessness, had betrayed her confidence?” 

Mrs. Cardwell saw that Mary was completely un- 
nerved, and that something must be done very soon. 
^‘Papa has a call to the hospital uptown this afternoon 
and we will dress and accompany him,” she finally 
said, “from there we can go on to the Warners for a 
short time and then you can explain to Virginia your 
blunder in regard to the letters, and I am sure, every- 
thing will come out all right.”— “I tell you mama, Vir- 
ginia will never forgive me,” wailed Mary. “I can 
think of no better way than to face the situation im- 
mediately, and endeavor to right it,” replied her 
mother, “now hurry and dress, and we must make an 
early start to get there before evening.” 

Mr. Warner had noticed a change in Virginia since 
her return home. Sbe was not his blithe, happy little 
girl as of yore. Her face often wore a sad look as 
though she had thoughts and memories that troubled 
her. She had lost the keen interest she one time had 
pertaining to himself and their home. While she at- 
tended to the duties that devolved upon her as mistress 
of her father’s establishment, she did it in a perfunct- 
ory, listless manner. All this her father saw, man 
though he was, and set about to find the cause and a 
remedy if possible. Naturally his first thought was 
that the old desire for the stage life had returned, and 
he felt sure Virginia, after her promise not to leave 
him, would not do so, although it might cost her a hard 
struggle to give up her cherished plans. 

Since" the visit of his old business associate. Grand- 
pa Tom, and his bright young son, and the revelations 
that had taken place at that time, Mr. Warner was in 


74 the AlYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


despair — here was Grandpa Tom’s son and young Har- 
riman, (whose acquaintance he had forbidden Virginia 
to cultivate) one and the same. Was ever mortal man 
so harrassed? “I would rather undertake to manage 
all the railroad systems in the country than to try to 
manage one young woman like my daughter,” he said, 
as he had many times to himself. “How like her 
mother made him promise he would not permit her 
so wilful.” “Ah me! perhaps I am cruel to deprive her 
of the one desire of her heart, to deny her the lofty 
privilege of uplifting the stage,” he thought as his 
eyes twinkled. “I believe I’ll consent to her spending 
a year abroad studying, and see what the result will be. 
Anyhow, I must do something, I cannot see her mope 
and pine her bright young life away because of her de- 
votion to me.” 

After this resolution Mr. Warner felt 'somewhat 
relieved but not for long. There soon came rushing 
back through his brain the time, when Virginia’s 
mother made him promise he would not permmit her 
to choose the stage as a profession, and that she must 
never know her mother was an actress. For fully an 
hour these thoughts crowded one after another through 
his already tired brain. Then he arose from his cha^r 
with a strange look of determination on his face, paced 
the floor for a few moments, rang the bell, and sent 
for Virginia. 

When Virginia came into the room she saw her 
father was laboring under excitement. “You sent for 
me, daddy,” she said in her old cheery way. “Yes, Vir- 
ginia, I must talk with you upon a subject we have 
both avoided perhaps too long. Your “pensive, de- 
pressed manner, the past few months, has not passed 
unnoticed by me, although until now I have said 
nothing.’' — “Why, have I been sullen or unkind to you 
papa?” she said, a little tremor in her voice. “No, not 
that, dear child, but you are not yourself these days; 
something is troubling you I am sure. Perhaps you are 
not well, or you may be lonely, or a number of other 
things may be the cause. Just what I can only sur- 
mise. Now, my daughter, I sent for you hoping to hear 
from your own lips something of the reason why you 
are so low spirited and unnatural.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 75 


As her father spoke, Virginia’s face took on a 
tender, almost reverent look, and she went over and 
sat on the arm of his chair, and placing her soft white 
arm about his neck, she said, “Don’t you worry about 
me, papa; I’m all right.’’ — “Can’t you confide in your 
‘old daddy’ as you once did?” he asked. — “Father,” 
said Virginia, “you would not understand if I did. You 
cannot help me. No one can.” Struggling for com- 
posure, she rose from her seat. “Let’s go somewhere, 
or do something, papa,” she said. “It’s such a foolish 
thing for us to sit here and talk about something we 
cannot help,” — “No, Virginia, come and sit by my side 
again. I have something to say to you.” So she drew 
a stool close beside her father’s chair, and resting her 
chair upon her hands waited for him to begin. 

“Virginia,” he said in a low tone of voice as though 
fearing other ears- than hers would hear what he was 
saying, “what I am about to tell you is among my most 
sacred memories, and when I have finished if you still 
desire to carry out your plan of preparing for the stage, 
I will not in any way hinder you.” 

Virginia’s eyes, filled with amazement, gazed 
steadily up into the face of her father as he related to 
her the incident of the awful dash through the 
flames, and the rescue from certain death of the girl 
who afterward became his wife, and her mother. 
Terrible as it was for him to live those scenes over 
again, he left nothing unsaid. As he talked, he bared 
his arm and showed the scars that would go with him 
ever as a sad reminder of that night at the theater. 

As Virginia looked she asked, “Why have you 
kept all this from me so long, papa?” — “T promised 
your mother you should never know these things, but 
rather than see you droop and die like a beautiful 
blossom., I have broken this most sacred promise to the 
dead to save the living.” 

Virginia’s head sank lower and lower until it 
rested upon her knees, and the long pent up fountain 
of her tears burst forth, and the strong young frame 
shook with sobs. Her father, expecting this, calmly 
placed his hand upon the smooth glossy mass of hair 
for a moment only, and then he leaned back in his 
chair and let her weep as long as she would. 


76 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


When she raised her head she smiled through her 
tears and said, “Papa — dear old daddy, I haven’t the 
least desire to go on the stage any more, and haven’t 
had since the day I left our train.” “Well, if that 
isn’t just like a woman,” said Mr. Warner jumping up 
so suddenly he almost upset Virginia. “You can’t tell 
what they are going to do. Here I have blamed my- 
self for withholding my consent to, as I supposed, what 
was your most cherished plans, only to find that I am 
on the wrong track.” 

“Yes papa, you are mistaken, but since you have 
epened and read the pages of a sealed book to me this 
afternoon, I will tell you what is troubling me. Of 
course you will laugh when I tell you it is merely a 
little affair of the heart,” and averting her face, she 
told her father all that had passed between herself and 
Harry Holcomb at Dr. Cardwell’s. When she had 
finished, Mr. Warner drew her tenderly toward him, 
saying, “And so he thinks he can play with you, does 
he?” and after a moment’s refiection, “Well, Virginia, 
are you going to allow a thing like that to cause you 
so much misery?’ 

“Then, I knew you would not understand,” said 
Virginia. “No, I am afraid I don’t, and I am afraid I 
never can,” said her father, as the bell rang and a 
servant announced, “Mr. Holcomb.” Mr. Warner and 
Virginia turned to greet Grandpa Tom, only to find 
themselves face to face with Harry Holcomb. 

Virginia was the first to recover, and advancing 
held out her hand. “How do you do, Mr. Harriman — 
Holcomb?” she said. “How do you do Miss Dockland 
— Warner?” he quickly responded; whereupon all three 
laughed and the strained situation was relieved. Vir- 
ginia, thinking the call must be purely a business one, 
was about to leave the room when once more the maid 
announced, “Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell, Miss Mary Card- 
well.” Virginia hastened into the hall to meet them 
and while wondering at this unexpected visit she was 
overjoyed to see them, especially Mary. 

When Mr. Warner and Harry were left to them- 
selves, the latter in a straight forward, convincing man- 
ner and without a moment’s hesitation, began to ex- 
plain to him the object of this hurried visit. “This is 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 77 


not a business call,” he said. “Well, you act very much 
as though you meant business young man,” said Mr. 
Warner, with a questioning look on his face. “I was 
never more in earnest in my life,” replied Harry, “and 
the outcome of my talk with you will either make or 
mar my future.” 

“Whew! you are in a serious mood, sure enough, I 
hope I can be of some assistance,” said Mr. Warner. 
“I came to talk to you about your daughter. Miss War- 
ner, the most charming, sweetest, and fairest girl I 
have ever known. She seems as near perfection to me.” 
— “Now, young man,’ broke in Mr. Warner, “don’t 
think Virginia is perfect, because I know better — but 
go on.” 

“You know we met at Dr. Cardwell’s last sum- * 
mer. I was her slave from that time. She gave me 
reason to think she was not averse to my attentions, — 
and/ we were as happy as birds. When suddenly a 
change came over her — she refusd to see me — wrote 
me a curt note saying all was over between us — with 
no explanation whatever, other than she thought we 
had m.ade a mistake. Our meeting here the other even- 
ing was the first since last summer at Dr. Cardwells. 

I looked into her eyes that night, hoping to see some 
little gleam of the old light I had seen there so many 
times, but I could not get below the calm and gracious 
exterior. Since that night something has come into my 
possession which clears up the mystery. Virginia thinks 
I am a villian — ” 

“Yes she does,” chimed in Mr. Warner, “and why 
shouldn’t she?” (never for a m-oment doubting every- 
thing would come out all right, and that the plans he 
had cherished from Virginia’s childhood would be car- 
ried out, he could afford to appear at least a little in- 
different) “You ought to know you could not trifle 
with a young woman like my daughter,” he said. 

“Sir, I hope I have never for a moment regarded 
the love of your daughter in any but the most sacred 
light,” Harry warmly responded, “and now, all I ask 
is your permission 'to win her for my wife.” “I sus- 
pect she’ll have a little something to say about it her- 
self,” said Mr. Warner. “All I ask is your consent, and 
I believe I can convince Virginia that at least, I am 


78 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


not a villian” said Harry. James- Warner’s manner 
softened, and grasping Harry by the hand, he said, 
“Virginia is all I have, and when I say. Win her 
if you can, and make her happy, you can never know 
what it costs me.” 

This- conversation had taken place behind closed 
doors in the library and as they opened, the two men 
passed into the drawing room and greeted the Card- 
wells cordially. Mary looked straight into Harry’s 
eyes as he took her hand in his, and saw in a moment 
she had nothing to fear from her mistake. “Give it to 
me,” she said almost under her breath. And as he 
passed into the hall she walked beside him and with- 
out being observed by any one but Mrs. Cardwell, he 
handed her the letter and she placed it in the 
bosom of her dress. Thanking him with her eyes and 
turning to retrace her steps, she met Virginia, who 
came to bid Harry good-bye, and to invite him to come 
again sometime during the week, as Mary had prom- 
ised to remain a few days and Ellen and her mother — 
with a slight emphasis on “Ellen” — were coming in 
the morning for a week’s stay. Harry thanked her and 
taking her hand in his- was about to raise it to his lips,. 
when she hastily drew it away. “Good afternoon, Mr. 
Holcomb,” she said looking away. “Good-bye, Vir- 
ginia,” Harry replied, “I shall come again soon.” 

Mrs. Cardwell had seen Harry hand Mary the let- 
ter, and divined by the expression on his- face, that the 
contents were not unknown to him, left no further 
cause for uneasiness from this source, and suggested to- 
the doctor that they return home before the hour be- 
came late. Virginia and her father urged them to re- 
main for the night but, they could not be persuaded to 
do so. Mary was delighted at the prospect of a few 
days with Virginia, and gladly consented to remain. 
Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell took thier leave, promising Mary 
to send her up something to wear. 

As- soon as Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell were gone, the 
two girls, both ta'king at once, laughing and chatting 
about the gay times they had had last summer, slowly 
mounted the broad stairway to Virginia’s room. Here 
the strong nature of the girl was- everywhere in evi- 
dence. A bright fire burned in the grate, on the op- 
posite side of the room. A softly shaded lamp, upon- 


/ 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 79 


the table in the center, threw a mellow light upon the 
faces of the two girls as they entered, still chattering 
away like magpies. Virginia remembering her recent 
confession to Mary, — and Mary reminded of her 
blunder by the rustle of paper in the bosom of her 
dress — little wonder that they both felt a trifle nervous. 

“How did you happen to come out today, Mary?” 
asked Virginia. “Why, I — I mean we — or rather papa, 
had to come up to the hospital to see Dutch Joe, and 
mama said we would come too, and run out here for a 
short call,” said Mary, slowly. “O, yes,” replied Vir- 
ginia, “and I am so glad you came. I think I’ll need 
you while Ellen is here,” and Mary understood. “But 
who is Dutch Joe?” resumed Virginia. “Some one who 
was hurt a few days ago at the steel plant, it is 
thought fatally — and papa was called as counsel in the 
case,” explained Mary- 

Just here the dinner bell sounded and the girls 
hastened to the dining room and found Mr. Warner al- 
ready seated. As was her custom, Virginia pressed a 
light kiss upon her father’s brow, and motioning for 
Mary to be seated, took her place at the head of the 


table. 

Mr. Warner seeing the girls were full of their own 
chatter, remained silent until the meal was flnished. 
When they arose from the table, he asked Virginia who 
it was that was coming in the morning. “Mary, you 
tell papa, about Ellen and her mother, won’t you 
please. I want to consult with the housekeeper a few 
moments,” said Virginia leaving the room. And Mary 
in her sweet gentle manner, told of Ellen’s accident, 
her slow recovery, her mother’s visit, and of Ellen s 
flnal return to her work in the city. “Papa told her 
that if she was careful he thought she could take up 
her work again,” said Mary. “We all became so much 
attached to her we were sorry to have her leave us, 
and I shall be so glad to see her again, resumed Mary, 
who never for a moment doubted that Ellen was as 
“true as steel,” and that that waist and shoulder epi- 
sode in the garden was all a terrible mistake. 

Virginia returned and the two girls went once 
more to her room, where they sat before the Are and 
exchanged confidences as only girls can. Where is 
Mr. Thornton, Mary,” asked Virginia. “He has gone 
to Old Mexico. He went right after flnishing his 


8o THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


‘Elaine’. You know I told you I posed for him,” re- 
plied Mary. “I felt dreadfully lonesome for a while 
after he went away, but Raymond came home — and, 
Virginia, I don’t seem to care how long George stays 
away now.” 

“Why Mary Cardwell. I supposed of course- 
George Thornton was absolutely necessary to your 
happiness,” said Virginia in a genuinely surprised man- 
ner. “I did like him and I do now,” said Mary, “but 
he’s an artist and Raymond is a doctor and you know 
I’m used to doctors,” and added tamely, “Papa did not 
seem to care very much for George, although he did 
not say anything. Both papa and mama think a great 
deal of Raymond — .” Before Mary could finish, Vir- 
ginia broke in, “Yes and so does Mary.” 

The next morning, Ellen and her mother arrived 
and Virginia and Mary were so pleased to see Ellen 
that they almost forgot to greet Mrs. Rhinehart. But 
Virginia hastily extended her hand, and looked into 
the pale face of her old-time enemy, was surprised to 
see nothing but gentleness and love written there. “For- 
give me Virginia,” she plead, still holding her hand, 
“I was cruel and unjust to you last summer. I knew 
it at the time, but simply could not help the feeling of 
resentment that rose in my heart against you — You had 
everything; Ellen and I had, nothing. I had dwelt on 
these thoughts so long I became bitter and unreason- 
able.” 

“Mrs. Rhinehart,’ said Virginia, “you are our most 
welcome guest, and I assure you I have no ill feeling in 
my heart against you — and now let us- dress for lunch. 
Papa will be home, and we will all go motoring this 
afternoon.” 

Mr. Warner, after greeting the new comers in the 
parlor, excused himself for a moment and withdrew to 
his room. Looking at himself in the mirror for the first 
time in weeks, “H’m! guess I’d better spruce up a 
little,” he thought as he noted his unkempt appear- 
ance, and hastily donning fresh linen and changing his 
business suit for a little more pretentious one, he once 
more looked in the glass, and thought he saw where 
Virginia got some of her good looks. He soon ap- 
peared in the parlor, and offering his arm to Mrs. 
Rhinehart, he led the way to the dining room, followed 
by the three girls. 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONVjGRAM. 


8i 


CHAPTER XI. 

After leaving the party at Warner’s, Dr. Cardwell 
and his wife entered their car in contemplation of a 
delightful drive homeward in the cool of the evening. 
“Let the drive be slow Doctor,’’ said Mrs, Cardwell. 
“Such a night as this is one for rest and enjoyment, 
and I know you must be tired after your busy day in 
the city,” and Dr. Cardwell was ready to follow his 
wife’s suggestion, for he had much to occupy his mind. 

The car roiled silently over the smooth gravel road 
which led from the pretty suburb of Chicago to Colton. 
Dr. Cardwell was soon lost in ^thought and reviewing 
the day’s proceedings — How he had been called to the 
hospital to minister to Dutch Joe who had asked the 
attending physician to send for him; how the nurse had 
related the story of Joe’s fall, of the hemorrhage that 
followed, and how in his ravings he had called con- 
tinually for Dr. Cardwell; how there was a gleam of 
recognition in his eyes for a moment; how Joe had 
tried to tell him something, and how he had made him 
as comfortable as possible and left him in the hands of 
the company physician. Dr. Warfield. 

How the strong resemblance between this young 
doctor and his own son startled him. He had tried to 
think it was all the product of his own imagination 
and to dismiss the thought from his mind, but he 
found it impossible to do so. “Svch a likeness! Can it 
be?” he murmured unconsciously. “What likeness?” 
asked Mrs. Cardwell smiling, “O, did I say something? 
I was just thinking of one of my cases at the hospital 
today,” he replied, trying to appear unconcerned, for 
he thought best to keep to himself, for the present at 
least, his imaginings. “But a penny for your thoughts, 
my dear.” 

“Well, womanlike, I have been thinking of poor 
Virginia and her tangled love affair, and wondering 
how it will all come out in the end.” — “Tut, tut, leave 
that to Mary, rest assured she will find a way to 
straighten things out when the time comes, for she is 
more or less of a matchmaker anyway." — “Yes, that’s 


82 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


true, but I sometimes' think Mary has a web of her own 
to untangle, for while she and George were the best of 
friends before he left, and seemed so well suited to each 
other, still since Raymond has returned they have 
been together almost constantly, and,” she added, “I 
wonder if our long cherished hopes may not some day 
be fulfilled and she grow to love Raymond in a different 
way than as a brother?” 

“Aha, one can plainly see where Mary acquires her 
art of matchmaking,” the doctor laughingly replied, as 
he put on more speed and in a short time they were 
gliding up the winding driveway to the Cardwell home- 
stead. 

With hands thrust deep into his pockets and wear- 
ing an air of irresolution, a young man gazed absent- 
mindedly at a group of tennis players in the distance. 
Today the rolling stretches of green of the golf links 
held no charm for him, and the hazy atmosphere 
seemed in keeping with his pensive mood. 

The time was late afternoon of an October day — 
the place, the attractive lounging room of the South- 
side Country Club — the man, none other than Robert 
Warfield. At this moment a pleasant looking fellow 
with laughing eyes came running up, leaped quickly 
over the veranda railing and thrust his head through 
the window at the farther end of the room — “Well say. 
Bob, it’s a wonder you wouldn’t let a fellow know, you 
were in hiding. Here I’ve traveled over every inch of 
this place and put at least fifteen people on your trail, 
while here you stand, the only person idiotic enough to 
prefer this place to the perfection out-of-doors — Do 
come and ‘skin me’ as usual at golf.” 

“No, not today, Dick. Can’t you see my mind is 
miles away? I haven’t a desire to ‘skin’ any one at 
present,” and he turned his back indifferently on his 
companion, who now sat perched on the w,indow-sill 
with a much injured expression. 

“Goodby grouch, you’re mistaken if you think I’m 
going to urge you to come and ‘do me’ when there are 
several hanging around out here whom I can best.” 

Left alone Dr. Bob drew up a large Morris chair 
and lighting a cigar, up went his feet to the table 
stacked high with magazines, and forward came his 
resolution to turn over in his mind the two problems 
'Which had been troubling him. He had now been in 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 83 


Chicago for ten months and had become fascinated with 
liis work. He liked to study the lives of these people 
who earned their living by the sweat of the brow and 
showed such grit and. courage under such trying condi- 
tions as existed amongst the workmen of this great 
company. Still he did not like the thought of spending 
all his life among them. The old longing to go abroad 
and continue his study, to know better how to solve the 
great medical problems that arise most every day 
seemed stronger now than ever before. 

He thought of his father and mother who had done 
so much for him, how they had sacrificed many things 
for him and seemed to get joy and happiness in so 
doing, he would like to see them today and talk over 
many things, and ask them for advice about the offer 
that had come to him a few days before. 

The board of managers of the Presbyterian Hos- 
pital had notified him that there would soon be a 
vacancy on the medical staff of that institution, and 
they were very desirous that he take the place. He had 
not given them much encouragement for he hardly 
knew what to do. He realized that this would give 
trim a better opportunity for scientific investigation 
than he could, have in his present position, and it would 
also throw him with a more varied class of people, 
some of whom, at least, were possessed with the nobler 
ambitions of life, and would be able to assist him in 
the attainment of his higher ideals. 

The ashes of his cigar suddenly fell on the lapel 
of his blue serge coat and seemed to arouse him from 
his reverie, and he muttered half aloud, “Dr. Bob, 
why this pensive mood? What has happened, to cause 
such seriousness? I do wish Dick had collared me and 
dragged me away out into the fresh air.” 

His hand hit something hard in his pocket and he 
drew forth the package that had been thrust into his 
hands by Dutch Joe just before he sank into uncon- 
sciousness. “Confound the thing. Here’s the ‘hoodoo’! 
Glad I found it, but what to do with it! To be left 
with the sole possession of a dead man, with no known 
relatives or friends, and no instructions as to, what dis- 
position to make of it — This is no joke I From Joe’s 
actions one might think the packet contained nuggets 
of gold — and labeled with my own initials, too — That 


84 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


‘stumped’ me from the very first. Shall I peer into the 
mysterious package now and see what it contains? 
Never! I’ve simply got to get out and have a game of 
golf or die in my shell!” 

He drew out his watch — ’twas five o’colck and he 
dashed out of the door, flinging care to the four winds,, 
and the first fellow he saw was Dick, who shouted, 
‘‘Well, this is more like it! and if you have decided to 
doff your grouch and be yourself. I’ll bet dollars to 
doughnuts I can ‘do you’ to the tune of four up and 
three to go.” — ‘‘Done! I’ll take you, old sport, so 
come along you will have to show me!” — and the 
game was on at once. 

What John Warfield and his good wife had sac- 
rificed for young Robert Warfield, none but themselves 
would ever know. They had begun their married life 
in the small town of Bancroft, ten miles distant from 
Colton, where he, by his tireless efforts, had gradually 
worked his way from that of an unknown attorney-at- 
law up to that of a judge in the circuit court of that 
district. 

The first thing that came into their lives to mar 
their uninterrupted happiness was the sudden illness 
and, death of their only child, Malcolm, a bright lad 
four years of age. He contracted diphtheria in so 
virulent a form that the physician said from the first 
that there was no hope for the child’s recovery. Judge 
Warfield and his wife watched by the bedside of their 
stricken child during the few days of its terrible suffer- 
ing and together they bemoaned their own helplessness 
and the ineffective efforts of the best medical skill they 
could obtain. 

The year following the death of little Malcolm was 
one of sadness and gloom, especially to the bereaved 
mother whose life had been so interwoven with that of 
her child, and she found it hard to endure the awful 
stillness that now reigned where once was heard the 
patter of tiny feet and shouts of boyish glee. 

A faithful friend during these trying days was 
Mrs. Scott, the minister’s wife, who was a frequent 
visitor at the Warfield home. One morning Mrs. War- 
field looked out of the window toward the street and 
saw Mrs. Scott coming up the walk carrying a basket. 
“What can it be this time?” thought Mrs. Warfield, 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 85 


“such a dear, she is always bringing something ta 
please or cheer my lonely hours,” and she flew to open 
the d.oor. 

Before either could speak a cooing sound issued 
from the basket and out came a dimpled hand, pushing 
the fine woolen blanket back from a baby face. 
“Where did you get it?” were Mrs. Warfield’s first 
words, as she quickly peered into the basket. 

“You can never guess, so I may as well tell you 
at once. Last evening just as I had tucked little Helen 
into bed and had gone the round of kissing four pairs 
ef rosy lips, we heard footsteps on the porch and a low 
halloo. Husband hurriedly opened/ the door but the only" 
person he found waiting was this darling baby. Why 
any one would, leave him with us, I do not know, un- 
less they believed in the old saying, ‘If you want some- 
thing done you should ask the busiest woman in town 
to do it,’ for surely with all the duties that fall to the 
lot of a minister’s wifo and our four sturdy children 
I have something to do, but,” continued Mrs. Scott a® 
Mrs. Warfield lifted, the child in her arms, “I am so 
excited over the contents of this basket! Do look at the 
monogram on this blanket. Everything is marked with 
‘R. W.’ so beautifully interwoven and embroideresi 
with the skill of trained hands.” 

“That is not half so interesting to me as the face 
of this baby,” replied Mrs. Warfield. “But what do you 
intend to do with him?” — “That’s what I came over 
here to ask you about. Haven’t you an idea, something 
to suggest,” and Mrs. Scott waited for Mrs. Warfield 
to speak. 

“O, Mrs. Scott, now I think I know your meaning 
— will you give him to us? ' — “I would like to keep 
him myself,” replied Mrs. Scott, “but we have our own 
four to^ provide for, and feel that if you and Mr. War- 
field will take this baby, for the present at least, it will 
help us in the matter, and it may be only a few days 
until s meone will be offering a ransom for him” — 
“With all my heart,” replied Mrs. Warfield, “and I feel 
sure Mr. Warfield will gladly consent to this arrange- 
ment.” 

Two years passed and nothing was learned con- 
cerning the identity of the child, whereupon they 
adopted him as their own and gave him the name of 


86 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


Robert Warfield. Judge Warfield rejoiced to see the 
smile of satisfaction once more upon the face of his 
wife, and together they soon found themselves planning 
for the future of this young life which Providence had 
so kindly placed in their hands. 

Realizing that it would, be impossible for the child 
to grow up in the midst of a community familiar with 
the events of his early life without some one revealing 
these facts to him, and being desirous that he should 
always consider himself their own son they decided it 
would be necessary for them to leave Bancroft. 

The sacrifice which this involved none but them- 
selves could ever understand, It meant not only the 
surrender of home and many friends, but the giving 
up of the prestige gained by years of well rendered 
service and the competence they were enjoying. 

They moved to New York City, where Mr. Warfield 
continued his law practice and, was able to establish a 
comfortable home and give Robert an education finish- 
ing with a course in the Manhattan School of Medicine. 

After receiving his degree he obtained an appoint- 
ment as company physician for the United Steel works 
with an office in New York. After two years he was 
transferred to the Chicago branch of this company, 
where he was engaged in looking after the welfare of 
the men employed in erecting the Consolidated Trust 
building, and, where Dutch Joe had received the inju- 
ries which resulted in his death. 

But to return to the golf links. — The game over. 
Bob, in high spirits stood regarding the crestfallen and 
altogether subdued Dick. “I hated to treat you so 
badly there at the last, old fellow, but I simply couldn’t 
help it,” laughed Bob. But Dick, ever the cheerful 
member of the club, only challenged him for another 
game for two days later — “And, say!” he called after 
Bob, who now was sauntering off toward the club 
house, “What’s on for tomorrow night? Come on 
with me to the Auditorium. There’s a star on the 
stage who is proving immensely popular and I’m having 
a box affair, and one of the fellows had the nerve to be 
called away and leave me with an extra girl on my 
hands.” “Thanks, I’ll be ‘Johnnie on the Spot,’ but 
I must hurry off now, as I have a call to make on the 
way home — see you later,” and Bob filing his golf clubs 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 87 


to a nearby caddy, changed his clothes, and was soon 
whistling his way along toward a street car. 

A chubby newsboy with apple-like cheeks, thrust a 
paper towards him and he handed the urchin a coin 
accompanied by a cheery word and a smile. After 
swinging onto a seat near the rear end was soon lost 
in the perusal of the evening paper. At one stop sev- 
eral of the passengers filed along towards the rear of 
the car and some delay was caused in their alighting. 
A small woman with three children and twice as many 
large bundles was having an indescribable time with her 
several charges, and as the crowd paused to give her 
time and room, Robert was aware of some one’s stand- 
ing in the aisle by his side — “Why, good evening Doc- 
tor,’’ exclaimed a merry voice. “I didn’t know you 
had returned from your last call to New, York. Did 
you know that Mary has invited quite a party to Col- 
ton? Won’t we have just the jolliest time? You may 
have another chance to save us from watery graves, as 
we’ve made all sorts of plans for boating and picnicing’^’ 
— all this in one breath from Virginia, for it was none 
other than she, as she advanced forward a few steps 
only to behold the small woman making a futile attempt 
to rearrange all of the six big bundles in one arm and 
to grasp each of the three fat hands with her other dis- 
engaged one. 

Warfield gazed in a puzzled way at the girl beside 
him and managed to stammer — “Colton? — picnics? — 
Mary? — Why you must have made some mistake’’ — but 
the small woman had made a successful exit at last 
and the crowd was moving on, leaving Dr. Warfield 
with a look of utter amazement, and. Virginia wonder- 
ing — thinking — “What in the world can be the matter 
with Dr. Wayne?” 


S8 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


CHAPTER XII. 

As Mrs. Rhinehart wended her way to the spacious 
<lining room leaning upon the arm of Mr. Warner, the 
old-time aristocratic feeling was rekindled within her 
.and there flashed across her mind the thought that per- 
haps after all there remained a chance for attaining the 
long cherished ambition of her heart. Perhaps after 
all she had been mistaken in supposing that the real- 
ization of these fond, hopes could come only through 
the selection of the proper companion for the innocent, 
inexperienced, and kind-hearted Ellen. Why should 
not she, with her broad<er experience in such matters — 
her ability to read human nature and to act her part — 
he able to succeed where Ellen had failed? She was 
■scarcely past middle age — in fact she felt exceptionally 
j^oung tonight, and when the gracious Mr. Warner 
handed her to a place by his side and gallantly adjust- 
-ed her chair for her, she resolved to use her utmost 
endeavor to charm and if possible to capture this rail- 
road magnate. 

“What luxurious appointments you have here, Mr. 
W^arner — pray allow me to congratulate you upon the 
artistic taste you have displayed in the arrangement 
of your suburban home. The decorations are so tasty, 
so harmonious, and withal so homelike, one feels both 
at ease and entertained. I am wondering what your 
real home in Indianapolis must be like, — it must be 
simply exquisite.” 

She paused as if to read by the expression of his 
‘Countenance what would be the effect of her first ven- 
ture. Mr. Warner’s face lighted up and a smile spread 
over his countenance as he replied: “Thank you, 

Madam Rhinehart, I am indeed, glad that you like our 
liome here. Not every one has the aesthetic taste which 
you display, and few possess the unenvious disposition 
and the ingenuous spirit whiih you exhibit, and I ap- 
preciate your compliment.” 

Mrs. Rhinehart was baffled for a moment; her 
Iieart was in a flutter — Was he paying her back in her 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 89 

own coin? Was this man of the world reading her 
heart, detecting her flattery, and trying to shame her 
at her own tactics? She could not quite decide, but 
having made the start, she resolved to play the game 
to a .finish. 

“Do you know,” she continued, “that we are apt 
to form very erroneous opinions regarding those in the 
higher walks of life whom we have never met?” “How 
so?” he inquired, apparently much interested. “Why,” 
said she, “I had the impression that the president of 
the Great American railway must be a very august 
person, and so absorbed in business affairs and in com- 
puting interest on his millions that he would, scarcely 
deign to notice common people, much less engage in 
common conversation — and here I find you so courte- 
ous, so affable, and so like our own flesh and blood 
relations, that instead of a feeling of awe, here we are 
engaged in a home-like conversation and feeling i)er- 
fectly at ease.” 

“I should count it indeed unfortunate, Mrs. Rhine- 
hart, should my business or any other thing in this 
world rob me of that heart of flesh which inspires an 
interest in one’s fellowmen, and enables one to sym- 
pathize with and be interested in the welfare of those 
with whom we mingle. In such a case wealth would 
be a curse rather than a blessing, and its possessor 
would be unworthy of the talent entrusted to his 
keeping.” 

“How gratifying!” exclaimed Mrs. Rheinhart, 
“hereafter I shall refuse to believe one word of the silly 
stuff the newspapers say concerning the moneyed men 
of our country. How cruelly unjust they are — why 
they picture them to us as hard-hearted, grasping crea- 
tures, who delight to trample upon the prostrate forms 
of the weaker ones and take delight only in seeing 
their fortunes increase when in reality they are the 
world’s benefactors, and are often possessed with the 
highest and noblest ideals of life. Do you not find 
it extremely mortifying, Mr. Warner, to read such 
scandalous utterances as are published in the dailv 
papers about the wealthy men of our country? 

“It would indeed be both mortifying and humili- 
ating,” replied he, “if we should take them seriously; 
but the newspaper men believe that the majority of the 


90 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


people delight to read such sensational stuff, and that 
many enjoy seeing the skeleton of the other fellow’s 
closet revealed so long as their own is passed unno- 
ticed, and so the editors select the well-to-do class 
partly because they are fewer in number and partly 
because they are better able to ndure the slander, and, 
make them the subject of ridicule, solely for the pur- 
pose of making a salable commodity of their paper. 
The surprising thing to me is, not that editors will 
stoop to do a thing so ignoble, but that the common 
people are either so blinded, or so silly as to be influ- 
enced by such utterances.” 

His face had grown stern and a look of defiance 
had come to his eye, as if in contemplation of some re- 
cent newspaper comment particularly unpleasant tO' 
himself. She did not like to see him so; she was sorry 
she had broached the newspaper subject, and doubly 
sorry that she had confessed herself one of the silly 
class who had been influenced by the newspaper scan- 
dal. 

“What a charming daughter you have, Mr. War- 
ner,” was her next venture. “Not everyone who has 
been robbed of his companion in life is blessed by hav- 
ing an amiable daughter to comfort and console him 
in bis loneliness. You are indeed most fortunate in 
this regard also, for I assure you I know by bitter ex- 
perience how sadly one bereft, is in need, of some one 
to comfort in the lonely hour.” 

“Yes,” answered Mr. Warner, “but” — he paused 
in his utterance as if doubtful of the wisdom of com- 
pleting the sentence. She fancied she devined his 
thought and said, “you doubtless were thinking of the 
probable day in the near future when you will no long- 
er have this treasure with you; but I am sure you have 
long since learned that it never pays to borrow tomor- 
row’s troubles; besides, it seems to be according to the 
divine order of things that every soul should And its 
^mate,'’ and I am sure no sane parent upon reflection, 
would ■'^wish a child to forego a life of happiness such 
'as comes by a union with a congenial companion, just 
for the sake of selfishly enjoying the child’s presence 
a few years longer.” • - 

-“What' you say seetns logical indeed,” replied Mr. 
^■Warner, “although I have never carried the thought 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 91 

quite so far; the horror of ever being left alone and 
at the mercy of servants has seemed to precludei the 
possibility of further reasoning.” — “But why should 
you be left alone? Why, my dear sir, are there not 
as good fish in the sea as were ever hooked? Surely 
the case is not so serious after all, and there is no rea- 
son why you should not yet enjoy many years of do- 
mestic tranquility as perfect as any you have ever ex- 
perienced.” 

Mrs. Rhinehart paused as if to give him time te 
reflect a little upon the picture she had flashed before 
his gaze. She was surprised at the boldness of her own 
speech, and yet it was plain to her that he was not 
displeased with her because of her utterance, and in 
her heart she rejoiced that she had, at once found so 
favorable an opportunity for sowing the seed which 
she hoped would one day develop into a glorious har- 
vest. 

Strange as it may seem Mr. Warner was enjoying 
himself as he had not done before in years, for it must 
be remembered no friend of his, not even Virginia her- 
self, had ever felt free to talk with him in this unre- 
strained manner about the things wh’ch pertained to 
his everyday life, and now that he had found one who 
was seemingly interested in his welfare and willing to 
discuss with him the problems of his own life and to 
offer suggestions, little wonder that he was hungry for 
that bond of sympathy which the human heart natur- 
ally craves. Some one to whom the secret longings of 
the heart can be revealed — That boon, a bosom friend 
— which the aristocratic class so seldom enjoy, and this 
half-hour’s conversation with Mrs. Rhinehart was the- 
nearest approach to a confldential talk he had been per- 
mitted to enjoy for many years and so all-absorbed had 
Mr. Warner been that he had quite forgotten the other 
guests at the table. He was all unconscious of the 
troubled look on Virginia’s face, as she beheld with 
astonishment her father’s unusual behavior, and when 
she had 'spoken' to him directly* without arresting his 
attentfoh, and' he 'had even igfiofed ‘her request for a 
second helping of -’escalloped oysters;' neither Ellen nor 
Mary could longer pretend to be igtldrant 'of the situa- 
tion, and the*nieai ended with ^ an awkward lull in the 
conver^iation^ between the three ‘•’^irls; 'but Mr. Warner 


92 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


remarked, as he pushed back his chair from the table, 
that “he didn’t know when ever he had enjoyed a meal 
so much before,’’ — all unconscious of the fact that he 
had eaten both his own dish of salad, and the one in- 
tended for Mrs. Rhinehart, and as they repaired to the 
drawing room he took occasion to thank his gracious 
benefactor for her comforting suggestions, — adding, 
that “they would in all probability be of material as- 
sistance to him in his plans for the future.” 

“Mother,” g>aid Ellen that evening when they were 
alone in their room and about to retire, “I am afraid 
Virginia was not altogether pleased with the manner 
in which you absorbed Mr. Warner’s attention this eve- 
ning; she has hardly seemed herself since supper.” 

• “Ellen,” replied her mother, “don’t presume to 
meddle with th's tete-a-tete of mine — so long as Mr. 
Warner is in his present state of mind, it makes very 
little differerce to me, whether Virginia is pleased or 
displeased. And now, as you have absolutely refused 
to follow any further suggestions of mine which might 
result in our exaltation to our proper rank in ehe social 
world, if I choose to accomplish the task unaided by 
you, you can surely do me the great favor of remaining 
'quiet.” 

Poor Ellen! she realized that any further attempt 
to change her mother’s attitude would be fruitless, and 
went to bed with a heavy heart, and only succeeded in 
falling asleep after a refreshing hour’s meditation 
over future plans for the “Children of Israel” and many 
others of this class to whom she was trying to minister. 

It was nine o’clock the following morning as the 
four ladies took their places at the breakfast table, Mr. 
Warner having left by early train for New York on im- 
portant business, the announcement of which fact 
seemed quite to rob Mrs. Rhinehart of her appetite. 
Both Virginia and Ellen were eager to begin the dis- 
cussion of the subject which was uppermost in their 
minds and hearts, and so, as soon as the meal was fin- 
ished, they repaired to the library for a consultation. 
Virginia requesting Mrs. Rhinhart and Mary to prepare 
for a drive, as the coachman had been given orders to 
call for them at ten. 

“Now, my dear Ellen,” said Virginia when they 
were alone, “let us to business. First, let me assure 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


93 


you that my failure to return to Chicago to resume the 
-settlement work, is not in any sense due to a loss of 
interest in the cause, for I stiU believe there is no claas 
of work more truly worth while in this world; but I 
have come to see that my first duty, at the present time, 
is to my father, upon whom the weight of years and 
the burdens of life have rested so heavily of late, that 
he begins to show signs of failing health, and I have 
promised him that I would not again leave him to fight 
the battle alone. And since it is settled that I cannot 
return to the work in person, I have been thinking how 
I might help in other ways, and the plan of erecting 
a settlement building suggested itself to me. In the 
limited experience I have had in the work, I came to 
see how handicapped we often are because of the lack 
of some headquarters place from which to draw sup- 
plies, and which would serve the purpose of dispensary, 
training-school, day-nursery, and nurses’ home all in 
one.” 

“Oh, Virginia j” cried Ellen, “how often I have wished 
for these very things, though I’ve never had the faith 
to believe that such a blessing would come so soon, or 
even in my life time. I cannot tell you, my dear, what 
joy I feel in the contemplation of this most worthy 
project you have outlined, and my constant prayer 
shall be that nothing may intervene to thwart your 
cherished plan. Though I presume it will continue to 
seem too good to be true. How long do you think it 
would take, dear, to complete such a building?” asked 
Ellen, and without waiting for Virginia’s answer, she 
continued, “The reason I ask, or at least one reason is, 
I was wondering if this would not be an opportune 
time for me to complete my nurse’s training course. 
You doubtless know, Virginia, from your own experi- 
ence how difficult it is sometimes to get the counsel 
and medical assitance we need from the reputable phy- 
sicians, especially where there is little or no hope of 
remuneration, and the result is, we are sometimes left 
to diagnose the case and prescribe the remedy unaided. 
How often I have trembled under the burden of re- 
sponsibility thrust upon me, by the life of some helpless 
one being left wholly to my care, and at such times, 
how I have longed for an opportunity to complete my 
training course, that I might be the better equipped for 


94 the mysterious MONOGRAM. 


these duties. Now, it occurs to me that I could not dO' 
better than to return at once to the Presbyterian Hos- 
pital, and perhaps with the aid of the practical experi- 
ence I have had, I can finish my course in three months. 
Then — oh then how happy I shall be.” 

J 

“You are right, dear Ellen,” said Virginia, “and' 
now as the folks are likely to return at any time, let us 
conclude this session by de'^iding this much: You are 
to return to the hospital and complete your work there, 
arid my part shall be to carry out the plan for our set- 
tlement building.” They arose and stood for one brief 
moment — each seeming able to behold the magnani- 
mous, unselfish heart of the other — then they sealed 
the compact with a loving embrace and a hearty kiss. 

“Did I tell you,” asked Virginia, as they left the 
library, “that I broached the subject to father just be- 
fore he left? He only remarked that he probably 
would have use for all his ready money in the deal he 
is negotiating with Mr. Holcomb, but I shall take the 
matter up with him again when he returns, and in case 
I am unable to make him see things in the same light 
in which we regard them, I shall ask for the money 
which rightfully belongs to me — some fifty-five or sixty 
thousand dollars — which should be quite sufficient for 
. our immediate needs at least. Now we will ‘rest our 
case,’ as the lawyers say,” concluded Virginia as thejr 
seated themselves on the veranda to await the return 
of Mrs. Rhinehart and Mary. ^ 

“By the way, Ellen,” said Virginia, “I have a bit 
of very welcome news for you. Mr. Harry Holcomb is 
to call upon us this evening — but” she added “perhaps 
after all this is not news to you but only the carrying 
out of some pre-arranged plan about which you were 
j3onsulted — but be that as it may, I’m sure we are all 
to be congratulated upon the prospect of a very pleas- 
ant and enjoyable evening just ahead.” 

“Virginia,” faltered Ellen, “I am quite at a loss to 
know justchow.. much of what you have been saying is 
in jest and* how much is serious. The coming evening 
of enjoyment I assure you is very welcome inews to one 
who is so'aiearly a- recluse from all sorts of social en- 
joyments''as I' am, but, if you really .imagine Mr. Hol- 
comb’s coming here .tonight is in -any sense on my ac- 
count, let' vme: assure you that you are wholly in error; 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 95 

for, while I admire Mr. Holcomb and respect him as a 
gentleman, he never was and never can be anything to 
me. And so, my dear, if you wish to discover the real 
cause of Mr. Holcomb’s visit here this evening, you 
must lo-ok either to your own sweet self or to Mary.” 

Mrs. Rhinehart and Mary having just returned 
from their drive, now joined them on the veranda, and 
nothing further was said upon the subject, but the look 
of pleased contentment that rested upon Virginia’s face 
gave silent testimony to the fact that her heart was 
beating in joyous accord with the brightness and glory 
which today seemed to fill the outside world. 

The remainder of the day passed pleasantly at the 
Warner home. Ellen spent a portion of the time in 
writing letters, while her mother was enjoying her 
afternoon nap. This gaye Mary and Virginia an op- 
p-ortunity for an exchange of confidences which both 
enjoyed, as only such kindred spirits are able to do. 
Mary, however, deemed it unwise to offer the advice 
she had intended to give Virginia regarding her rela- 
tions with Harry, but during the course of their con- 
versation, she took occasion to express her confidence 
in and admiration for that gentleman, all of which 
seemed to please Virginia. And Mary smiled with sat- 
isfaction to herself, a little later, as she noted that Vir- 
ginia spent an unusual length of time in arranging her 
toilet for the evening — even consulting her opinion as 
to whether she should wear her turban braid or her 
new Juliet Coif. — “O the ooif, to be sure,” said Mary, 
‘T think it is so becoming with your hair waved into 
a moderate pompadour and brought back into a soft 
mass of Psyche curls.” Virginia acted upon Mary’s 
suggestions in this and other items relating to her toi- 
let, with the result that never in her life had she ap- 
peared to a better advantage. Never had she seemed 
so truly beautiful as that evening as she extended her 
hand at the door to Harry Holcomb and, looking him 
squarely in the face, she said, “I am glad to welcome 
you, Mr. Holcomb,” and her voice had such a ring of 
genuine candor in it, that the heart of young Holcomb 
experienced ■ a thrill of joy, such as he had not known 
for many weeks past; and the hope within him, so poor- 
ly nourished of late, now seemed to revel as in the en- 
joyment of a good square meal. 


96 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


It was indeed an enjoyable-evening, with laughter 
and singing and the recounting of the adventures of 
days gone by — not omitting thct bit of thrilling expe- 
rience on the lake. “By the way,” said Harry to Mary, 
“George has given me the cold shoulder of late — hasn’t 
written a scratch for over two months. Please tell 
him for me that I do not consider myself deserving of 
such treatment at his hands, and that I say he might 
at least send a post card now and then, that we might 
know which continent he inhabits most. But,” he 
added, “I don’t begrudge George Thornton one iota of 
the fame he is achieving, for I consider him as good as 
gold. They say he is making a stir in London of late, 
and the critics of the old world are beginning to sit up 
and take notice of him. WeP, I’m glad of it, for that 
old boy is as nearly four square as any one I have ever 
had the pleasure of knowing.” 

While Mary did not add anything to the eulogy 
of George Thornton, yet her heart again traversed the 
happy events of those blissful days when she had as- 
sisted him in his work, and how supremely happy she 
had felt in doing so. 

Once or twice during the evening, Mary and Ellen 
sought to make excuse for leaving the company but by 
the exercise of tact, Virginia had managed to prevent 
their doing so, and when the evening was spent and. 
Harry arose to take his departure, it would have puz- 
zled even a close observer to gress which of the three 
girls had been the special object of attraction; and al- 
though he had taken his departure without so much as 
an invitation to call again, yet his heart was happy in 
the assurance that things were coming his way once 
more. 

As Mr. Warner neared New York City, he expe- 
rienced a feeling of uneasiness and -^read as he contem- 
plated this final interview with Mr. Holcomb, which he 
had only obtained after repeated requests — the last of 
which was accompanied by an insinuation that some- 
thing must be done at once; that if Mr. Holcomb did 
not think favorably of the ext- nsion and reorganization 
project, he should look to others for co-operation, or 
else attempt the task unaided. Now, as he recalled 
Mr. Holcomb’s seeming indifference of late and reflect- 
ed upon this utter inability to manage such an enter- 


THE MYSTERIOUS MON-oGRAM. 97^ 


prise alone, he regretted that he had been so unwise as 
even to insinuate the possibility of_, his assuming an 
attitude which would mean hostility to the Holcomb 
interests. What if Mr. Holcomb should undertake the 
project alone? or worse yet, what if he should join 
forces with the Central Union road, his avowed enemy? 
What if they should build a line in competition with 
his own? how powerless he would be. It would mean 
nothing short of ruin to the Great American road. 

As these disquieting thoughts passed through his 
mind there arose one ray of hope — If the young man, 
Harry Holcomb, would only be present, he felt that he 
would surely have some regard for the Warner inter- 
ests, for Virginia’s sake, if for no other reason. He 
had come to admire this young m?n what little he had 
seen of him, especially the straightforward manner and 
the manly courage exhibited when he had asked for 
permission to pay court to his daughter, had not only 
pleased Mr. Warner, but also gave him the impression 
that the spirit of greed had not yet gotten a very strong 
hold upon the young man. But with Grandpa Tom it 
was different. The only estimate he seemed able to 
make whether of men or measures, was on the basis of 
dollars and cents, and Mr. Warner, as he continued his 
reflections, felt chagrined that during their former in- 
terview he had been led to reveal to Mr. Holcomb cer- 
tain facts concerning his own enterprises which would 
give that gentleman a decided advantage over him in 
case they should ever become enemies. 

The porter’s call to supper aroused him from his 
unpleasant reveries and he sought the dining-car, 
where the tempting menu, together with the pleasant 
memories of the evening before and, the recurring hope 
which Mrs. Rhinehart had awakened within him, com- 
bined to banish his gloom for several hours. 

When Mr. Warner entered the office of the presi- 
dent of the Overland railroad and asked for Mr. Hol- 
comb, he was shown to a seat in the outer office to 
await the coming of that gentleman. He was not sorry 
for a few minutes’ delay, which would give him time to 
formulate his line of argument and arrange the points 
he intended to emphasize in the order of their import- 
ance — but when a half hour bad passed and the inter- 
val lengthened to three-quarters and then to an hour 


98 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


and still Mr. Holcomb did not put in an appearance, a 
feeling of resentment began to possess him. He was 
not accustomed to such indifference. In his sphere as 
president of the Great American railway, men eagerly 
sought for the privilege of a few minutes of his valua- 
ble time, and here he had been kept waiting for over 
an hour and apparently with no excuse other than an 
intended rebuff. 

He beckoned to a clerk who was entering the pri- 
vate oiRce and asked him to please inform Mr. Holcomb 
that Mr. Warner had been kept waiting for over an 
hour. That affable gentleman returned in a few mo- 
ments with the information that Mr. Holcomb would 
be engaged for several hours longer and if he had any- 
thing of importance to communicate, he would better 
return the following day at 10 a. m. — but, he added, if 
the business pertained to the matter they had previous- 
ly discussed, Mr. Holcomb begged to inform Mr. War- 
ner that he did not care to continue such discussion, as 
all negotiations in i^he matter were at an end. 

The clerk quietly withdrew, leaving Mr. Warner 
alone with his wrath. His first impulse was to invade 
the private sanctum of his now avowed enemy, take 
him by the collar and demand an explanation;, but upon 
second thought, he knew that would be an unwise 
course. His face grew livid with rage and he left the 
office cursing the fate which had brought him under 
the power of “that cur” as he now denominated Mr. 
Holcomb. He went to the stock exchange, thinking he 
might there learn something that would give him a clue 
to the hand that was being played against him, but he 
learned little aside from the fact that the Holcomb 
stock had experienced a boom on the market without 
any apparent reason — save the attitude of confidence 
exhibited by those “on the inside,” who said nothing 
but seemed anxious to gobble up everything that 
“spelled Holcomb.” 

On his way to the hotel he bought a paper and 
eagerly scanning the ’headlines, his eye soon caught the 
glaring announcement, “Great Railroad: Merger — Con- 
solidation of the Overland and Central Union Lines — 
Mr. Holcomb in contiol.” He could read no farther — 
mechanically folding the paper, he put it in his pocket 
and stood for a moment on the street corner in a half- 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


99 


<3azed condition. A passing policeman, attracted by his 
pallor and strange actions, approached him to inquire 
what the trouble was, but before he co Id ask the ques- 
tion, Mr. Warner began to stagger and would have fall- 
en, had not that gentleman caught him, as he sank to 
the pavement in a helpless and unconscious condition. 

An ambulance was quickly procured and he was 
taken to St. Luke’s Hospital. The physician pro- 
nounced his case heart trouble, superinduced by worry 
and intense nervous strain. By the aid of restoratives 
the patient soon regained consciousness and immedi- 
ately asked for the paper, he had been reading. The 
nurse quietly explained to him that he was ill, and that 
his case demanded absolute quiet and rest, and urged 
him to dismiss all agitating thoughts from his mind, 
and think only of his recovery. Was there anyone in 
the city who was especially interested in him, for whom 
they could send to explain his whereabouts? He rose 
to a sitting posture and in a wild and excited voice he 
shouted, “No! they are robbers, villains, and their only 
object was to get my money.” The nurse gently, but 
firmly forced him to lie down again, assuring him that 
she understood the situation, and that he should not 
again mention the matter until he had slept. Then re- 
calling her instructions to ascertain who he was, she 
asked his name. “I’m nobody!” he replied. “I was 
once James Warner, president of the Great American 
railroad, now I’m nobody! Ruined,' Robbed!!” he 
wailed, as he turned his face to the wall. After some 
moments of incoherent mutterings he yielded to the in- 
fiuence of the quieting powders and fell into a troubled 
sleep, which lasted for several hours. 

The nurses, in going the rounds a little after mid- 
night, paused a moment by his bedside and was attract- 
ed by his whispering, and listening she detected some 
endearing words and in the midst of which she heard 
a name which sounded like Wischart or Winehart. The 
notation she recorded upon his tablet read, “Pulse 
stronger, condition improved.” 


loo THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

After spending some weeks in New York City, at- 
tending lectures and an occasionaj clinic, or in witness- 
ing some marvelous exhibitions of skill upon the op- 
erating table. Dr. Wayne felt he must return to 
Chicago. He had heard from Mary frequently, so was 
not altogether in ignorance as to what was going on 
at home. 

It had become very much the habit of the Blue- 
eyed Mary” to take “Ray,” as she was wont to call him 
into her confidence. So he knew of her blunder in re- 
gard to the letters, and of the hasty visit to the home 
of the Warners, meeting there Ellen and Mrs. Rhine- 
hart. He eagerly looked for the dainty envelope that 
contained her bright, spicy missives, and many times, 
in his replies, was at the point of saying that which had 
been uppermost in his mind and heart, for a long time. 
But this he said he would not do, until he had cleared 
up the mystery surrounding him, anc* while he knew 
now that Mary cared nothing for the young artist to 
whom he had supposed she had given her heart, he 
would not press her suit. 

“My only hope, now, seems to lie with Mrs. Rhine- 
hart,” he thought, “and now that she has recovered, I 
must hasten and endeavor to learn the truth, whatever 
it may be.” Before leaving, however, he wished to 
make one more visit to St. Luke’s hospital, and set out 
at once, as he was all eagerness to start for home. 

Upon arriving at the hospital he was told of the 
strange case that had been brought in the evening be- 
fore, A man past middle age, a stranger in the city, 
it would seem from his talk. After hearing that the 
name, James Warner, had been given in response to 
inquiry as to who he might be. Dr. Wayne at once asked 
permission to see him. 

Mr. Warner was much better after his sleep, and 
much more composed, and was in a condition now to 
give the attendant something reliable in regard to him- 
self. At his request, he had been allowed to sit up, 
and was about to dictate some messages he wished sent 
when Dr. Wayne entered the room. 






THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. loi 


“Surely I cannot be mistaken, you are Mr. Warner 
of the Great American railway, are you not?” he asked, 
as he went to the bedside. “Yes, I am James Warner, 
and if my eyes do not deceive me you are Dr. Ray- 
mond Wayne, and right glad I am to see you,” respond- 
ed Mr. Warner, holding out his hand. “How did you 
come to be here and in this condition?” Dr. Wayne 
asked, as he laid aside his gloves and hat, and motion- 
ing to the nurse, he told her he was a physician and a 
friend of her patient, and requested her to leave them 
alone for a time. When she had gone he turned to 
Mr. Warner and said, “Now tell me all about it,” and 
drawing his chair up to the side of the bed, he listened 
to the account of the “perfidious transaction,” as the 
sick man called it, that had taken place, and what it 
meant to the Great American railroad. “The last thing 
I remember doing,” he said, “was to buy a paper, and 
the next thing I knew I was here.” 

When he had finished, the doctor hoping to give 
him a little encouragement, said, “I was to leave for 
Chicago tonight, but if you wish, I will remain here 
with you for a few days and accompany you home when 
you are sufficiently well to make the journey.” Mr. 
Warner expressed his appreciation of this kind: offer, 
and begged him to remain if he could possibly do so. 

“I will stay with you, and shall do my utmost to 
have you on your feet in a short time. In the mean- 
time I will notify your daughter of your condition, 
and advise her to come so you will have her near you.” 
“Yes, send for Virginia,” said Mr. Warner in a weak 
voice, “She must know about this right away. She has 
often helped me in my business affairs, and sometimes 
T have thought she was as well able to handle them 
as myself.” Sighing deeply, he added, “I wonder 
what she will do when she hears what has befallen 
us?” “If I mistake not, sir, Miss Warner will not be 
crushed by the probable loss of wealth, but her anxiety 
will center entirely upon you and your health. She 
will be here tomorrow night, and now let us see how 
much better you can be by that time — and let us hope 
things are not so bad as they appear,” said the kind- 
hearted young doctor. 

The day had been spent at the Warner home in 
much the same manner as the previous one, by the 


102 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

three girls and Mrs. Rhinehart. Virginia had read the 
evening papers, — and at once knew what those glaring 
headlines meant to her father’s interests. She said 
nothing, however, and while she was perhaps a trifle 
less gay than usual, she had looked well after the 
pleasure and entertainment of her guests, and the day 
had been a pleasant one for them all. Late in the af- 
ternoon, a messenger boy handed the servant a box 
for her, and opening it, she disclosed a cluster of beau- 
tiful red roses, the kind she loved the best. Hastily 
picking up the note that lay almost hidden among tbe 
waxen leaves, she handed the box to Ellen, and read 
aloud, “Dear Miss Warner, I shall not be able to keep 
my appointment with yourself and friends tonight, as 
imperative business calls me to New York.” Then she 
stopped and finished reading the note with her eyes 
only, which ran, “Please accept the roses. I selected 
red ones, because we both like them best. I shall im- 
agine you with one in your hair tonight. Truthfully 
yours, Harry Holcomb.” Mary and Ellen smiled when 
Virginia ceased to read aloud, but wisely said nothing, 
and all three still admiring the half open buds, walked 
arm in arm into the library, where Mrs. Rhinehart sat 
reading and looking quite contented and happy. 

They were scarcely seated before a maid entered 
bearing a telegram, which she handed Virginia, who 
hastily tore open and read the message. The eyes of 
the girls and Mrs. Rhinehart were fixed upon her, but 
she gave no sign of the tumult within, other than to 
turn very pale, and rising quickly, said “This is from 
Dr. Wayne, Papa is ill at St. Luke’s hospital in New 
York and I must go at once.” “Prom Raymond!” ex- 
claimed Mary, “ why, how can that be? he was coming 
home tonight.” In reply, Virginia handed her the tel- 
egram, and left to make preparations for her hasty 
journey. 

Mrs. Rhinehart became very much agitated when 
Virginia stated the contents of the telegram, and said 
to Ellen, “Of course Virginia must go to poor, dear Mr. 
Warner, but it would not be right for her to go alone,” 
and thereupon declared her intention of accompanying 
her, and rising hurriedly went ^o her room, followed 
by Ellen. 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 103 

Once in the room, Ellen tried to dissuade her 
mother from carrying out her intentions, hut to no 
purpose. “Nothing can keep me from going,” she 
said, beginning to gather up her wearing apparel. Ellen 
however, was determined she should not go, and Cross- 
ing the room, took a firm hold of her mother’s 
shoulders, and turning her abruptly around, looked her 
squarely in the face, and said, “You cannot go with 
Virginia to New York.” 

Mrs. Rhinehart fairly gasped with astonishment. 

“Well, if I ever heard of the like. My own child at- 
tempting to thwart my plans at every turn like this. 

I tell you, Ellen, I shall go to poor Mr. Warner. He is , 
ill and needs me,” she screamed. “No mother, he did 
not send for you, he sent for his daughter. What can 
an inexperienced girl like that do when she gets there? 

I tell you once more, I am going.” And struggling to 
free herself from the grasp of her daughter, she 
realized the physical strength with which that young 
lady was blessed. “Mother, you shock and mortify me 
beyond measure. How can you be so foolish. Mr. War- 
ner ’ is nothing to you, and you are nothing to him. 

You surely cannot realize the position you have taken 
in regard to this matter. You have set aside all 
womanly modesty and have acted like an ill-bred, av- 
aricious creature who cares little or nothing, how she 
gains her ends. I have tried to be patient when you 
have attacked me and my principles, but I cannot see 
you making yourself ridiculous and hold my peace.” 

Mrs. Rhinehart had never seen Ellen like this, 
and it caused her -to understand something of the 
strength of purpose underlying her daughter’s char- 
acter. However she was not ready to yield the author- 
ity she had always exercised over her, and although 
trembling and weak from excitement, she made one ^ 
more, desperate effort to gain her point, but by taking “ j| 
a new tack. Ellen had placed her in a chair and was 
about to go to Virginia, when she spoke once more, in 
a voice choked, by sobs, “Ellen, my child, why have you 
spoken in this manner to me? You have hurt me cruel- 
ly.” — “You forced me to do it mother,” interrupted 
the girl, unheeded by the weeping woman. “I have 
disclosed to you my purpose in acting as I have, toward 
Mr. Warner, and no better opportunity could he had 


104 the mysterious MONOGRAM. 


than the present one. He is ill and needs sympathy, 
and” — “Mother, I will not listen further to talk of this 
kind,” poor Ellen was almost beside herself, “and if 
you persist in carrying out this wild notion, I shall use 
force to prevent you from doing so.” 

Seeing she had failed utterly, Mrs. Rhinehart be- 
gan to upbraid the faithful girl, who — as she watched 
her mother closely during her passionate utterances, 
feared for the worst. For some time, Ellen had de- 
tected symptoms of mental weakness in her mother, 
and of late, with her failing health, this had become 
more and more pronounced until now Ellen had be- 
come convinced that she could scarcely be held respon- 
sible for her actions. Truly, the outlook was anything 
but bright. She felt she must take her mother back 
to the city and seek advice at once. The now thorough- 
ly exhausted woman, pale and trembling, was placed 
upon a couch, and after gently caressing her hair and 
otherwise soothing her, Ellen saw that she slept. 

Quietly locking the door, she sought Virginia, 
who was now ready to start for the city. She said she 
intended going to her father’s office before leaving for 
New York, as she wished to make sure of the where- 
abouts of certain papers she knew he had.. She would 
take her maid with her, she said, in case she needed 
help. As she passed through the library, she took 
from the bunch of roses a single blossom, and fasten- 
ing it at her belt, turned to the girls, “I want you to 
stay just the same as if I were here,” she said. “I am 
so sorry to leave you like this. I have arranged to have 
everything go on as usual, and I shall send you some 
word as soon as I find out how things are.” 

“Virginia, dear, I think I shall go back to Colton 
in the morning,” said Mary, “and peThaps I can come 
again when you return. I was thinking of going any- 
way.” “O, yes, of course you want to go home for 
‘HE’ is coming, you say,” said Virginia in a bantering 
tone, and as she kissed the fair sweet face, added, I 
shall not try to keep you, Mary. Good-bye, girls — 
but where is Mrs. Rhinehart?” she asked, looking 
about. “She is sleeping,” replied Ellen, “and with 
your permission I will tell her good-bye for you. And 
Virginia, my dear friend, I want to thank you for (this 
delightful glimpse of your home life, and to tell you 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 105 

how much I appreciate your kindness in inviting us 
here. Mother and I will return to Chicago tomorrow. 
I feel some advice necessary in regard to her condition, 
and I think it better to seek it at once. I shall think of 
‘you constantly and will anxiously await some word 
from you.” 

Ellen, with a sad and heavy heart filled with 
shame, mingled with sorrow at the turn affairs had 
taken, hastened back to where her mother still lay 
sleeping, and seating herself beside the couch, could 
not keep back the memories that came crowding to her 
mind. Always she had been made to suffer, even in 
her school-girl days she had not been brilliant enough 
to satisfy her ambitious mother, who had sacrificed 
• much to keep her there. This she well knew and 
felt keenly, and when at the close of her second year 
at College, she had come home with a heart full of 
happiness and told her of a certain young medical stu- 
dent whom she had met and learned to love, and one 
day promised to wed — how angry her mother had be- 
come and ended by forbidding any further communica- 
tion between them. 

At this point her thoughts reverted to George 
Thornton, and her passing fancy for him, during her 
stay at Colton the past summer. In her mind she 
found herself comparing him with the manly young 
fellow, whose clear gray eyes had looked into hers as 
she told him of her plan to enter Settlement work, and 
she smiled sadly as she remembered his telling her it 
made no difference what might happen, he would al- 
ways remain true to her. She cared nothing for 
George Thornton now, of this she was fully convinced, 
and as 'she thought of Robert and the bright, sunny 
hours they had spent together during their school days, 
the old longing and heartache returned in full force, 
and throwing herself upon the bed, she sobbed long and 
bitterly. She had wondered many times where he was 
and what he was doing, and whether she would ever 
see him again. “Ah, surely,” she thought, “fate has 
something beside work and sacrifice in store for me,” 
and dashing the tears from her eyes, she rose and 
bathing her face and rearranging her hair, set about 
preparing for the journey back to the city. 

The following morning Ellen wakened her mother 


io6 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


somewhat earlier than usual and found she was sub- 
dued, but still angry and resentful. “We will go back 
home, this morning. Mother, I think it best,” she said,, 
fearing she might lose control of the situation. “Oh, 
well, of course that settles it then,” snapped that lady, 
“I could not expect to be consulted n the matter,” and 
in an injured tone went on t say, “Anything I might 
say would have no weight whatever. When I was a 
child, children were supposed to obey their parents, 
now parents are forced to obey their children.” Ellen 
paid no attention to what her mother was saying, but 
continued to help her dress, which was no easy matter. 

When the breakfast bell rang, Mary, ready to go 
dow'n, met them in the hall, and they went to the din- 
ing room together. When the meal was over, the three 
set out at once for the city, Mary wishing to do some 
shopping before going back to Colton. 

Virginia hastened to the private office of Mr. War- 
ner, which was entirely separate from the general of- 
fices of the Great American system, now located in a 
magnificent building close to the Chicago terminus. 
In fact this private office was nothing but a dingy little 
room, maintained by the president as a hiding place 
from reporters and others whom he wished to avoid. 
Pew people knew of the place as the office of the presi- 
dent of a railroad, or anything else for that matter, as 
there was nothing to indicate who or for what purpose 
it was occupied. Here James Warner would be likely 
to keep such papers and documents as must needs be 
preserved, though having no immediate significance in 
regard to the management of that great system of which 
he was the head. He was in the habit of going through 
the little safe occasionally and reading carefully the 
papers kept there. Many times Virginia had helped 
him do so, and now the knowledge she had gained in 
this way was to help him amazingly in his present dif- 
ficulty. 

As our heroine unlocked the door, she was filled 
with dread lest her search prove futile. At last as she 
fingered the lock, the safe door opened and its contents 
'lay before her. She carefully examined each paper 
without finding that for which she had come. She 
spent some time, and as she consulted her watch, be- 
gan to fear she would have to go without it after all.. 


THE M-YSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 107 

She was in the act of closing the door, when she 
noticed a long, legal-looking, envelope lying close to 
the side of the drawer. Drawing it from its hiding 
place, she read in the upper left hand corner, “Gage & 
Lorimer, Attorneys-at-Law.” — “There it is,” she ex- 
claimed aloud. “Oh, I am so glad. I am sure papa can 
use this — and I think Mr. Thomas Holcomb will find 
out a thing or two,” and slamming the door of the safe 
shut, and securely locking the door of the little room, 
she ran down the stairs. 

Once outside she called a carriage, and was soon 
on board the fast train for New York. She had man- 
aged by sheer good luck to secure a stateroom, by 
sending her trusted maid to the station, while she went 
to the little office uptown. They were soon comfort- 
ably settled for the night, but Virginia slept little, and 
as the hours passed slowly by, became more uneasy and 
anxious for her father. Many times she had felt the 
cares and responsibilities of his position were too much 
for him, and had plead with him to retire to private 
life and rest. But no, — he was not yet ready to step 
aside and get out of the race. “No, indeed, I would 
die without my work,” he had replied, and she had 
said, “You can kill yourself in more ways than one, 
papa,” at which he only laughed. And now she won- 
dered as the train sped on, “How, will I find him? Oh, 
I wish I had gone with him, as he wanted me to. I am 
sure this secret combination of the Overland and 
Central was a surprise and shock to him — and was 
doubtless, more than he could endure. “T wonder, 
she mused, “just how much Mr. Harry Holcomb knows 
of this move on the part of the Overland? Plenty, I’ve 
no doubt. He evidently was not satisfied with making 
a fool of me, but now attacks my father. Well, so It 
is, and now we shall see what a certain young lady can 
do when she has to. And if Mr. Holcomb and his son 
Harry are not made to bend the knee before many days, 

I will miss my guess.” 

And so her thoughts ran all through the long 
night, as the train rushed rapidly on. As the morning 
dawned, she fell into a quiet slumber that lasted sev- 
eral hours. The faithful maid had arisen and kept 
guard over the sleeping girl. When she awoke she was- 
rested and refreshed. 


io8 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

They were nearing the great city at last, and were 
preparing to leave the train, when Virginia, tucking the 
now faded rosebud in her belt once more, stepped out- 
side the door of her compartment, only to find herself 
face to face with Harry Holcomb. “Why Virginia,” he 
exclaimed, “you here?” — “Yes, I am here,” with an 
air of defiance. “My father is ill at the hospital, and 
sent for me. You can probably guess the cause,” she 
added bitterly. In a moment the truth flashed upon 
him, and when he realized its full import, he was stag- 
gered. H« felt the breach between himself and this 
beautiful girl, of whom he had been so sure, widening 
perceptibly. In his mind he saw her lost to him for- 
ever, through this foolish move of the Overland. As 
he looked into her flushed determined face he longed to 
assure her he would do his utmost to right this thing. 
“Miss Warner — Virginia, listen to me” — “Mr. Holcomb, 
this is no time nor place for idle words, and your sym- 
pathy I do not want.” She turned to leave him, and 
as she did so, the faded rosebud fell at his feet. “You 
have dropped something,” he said. She turned, and as 
he handed her the withered blossom, for a brief mo- 
ment, their hands and eyes met, and Virginia turning 
scarlet, tossed it once more to the floor, and, rushed into 
her stateroom, slamming the door after her. 

The train had reached the station and people were 
rushing hither and yon, all bent on getting somewhere 
without any more delay than necessary. In the crowd 
Virginia had hoped to lose herself and thus avoid meet- 
ing Harry again, if possible. She, fallowed by her 
maid, entered a waiting conveyance, and had just ut- 
tered the words, “St. Luke’s Hospital as quick as you 
can,” when a familiar voice called out, “wait a mo- 
ment, Miss Warner,” and glancing up, she saw Dr. 
Wayne stopping to greet Harry Holcomb. Harry saw 
the eager look on Virginia’s face as she smiled and held 
out her hand to the young doctor, who was soon seated 
beside her. While he quickly guessed what had 
brought about the meeting, he was unreasonable 
enough to think he hated Wayne for being there, and 
fumed inwardly at the look of mischievous satisfaction 
Dr. Wayne gave him as he assumed proprietorship over 
Virginia and her belongings. 


THE M'YSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 109 

On the way to the hospital the anxious girl plied 
the doctor with questions about her father’s condition, 
and what the probable outcome would be and was as- 
sured there was no further danger of a recurrence of 
the attack, provided he did not become unduly excited. 
“I have, at his request, spent most of the time with 
him since I learned he was here,” the doctor told her, 
and have watched him closely, and, so far as I can see, 
there is no cause for alarm. Of course, you will take 
him home in a few days, and then he will soon be as 
well as ever.” 

Virginia was much relieved at what Dr. Wayne 
had told her, and as the carriage drew up to the hos- 
pital entrance, ran lightly up the steps and stood wait- 
ing, while he dismissed the driver and helped the maid 
with the luggage. It was now nearly nine o’clock, in 
the evening, and ordinarily admission to the hospital 
could not have been gained, but Dr. Wayne had made 
arrangements to have Virginia see Mr. Warner as soon 
as she arrived, for which she was grateful. She was 
now sure his condition would warrant at least a 
perusal of the papers she had brought with her, and 
she determined to become satisfied as to their value 
before she slept. Mr. Warner was expecting her, and 
when she entered the room where he sat, propped up 
in bed, he held out both his hands, and as she kissed 
the dear pale face, she struggled hard to control her 
emotions and tried her best to appear calm and cour- 
ageous. “Well, papa you have a fine way of breaking 
into my house parties,” she finally managed to say. 
“Don’t I though. I am sorry,” he began, but Virginia 
interrupted him — “Now, never you mind. I wanted to 
come to New. York anyway. I haven’t been here for 
ever so long. You are ever so much better aren’t you, 
daddy.” — “O, I suppose so,” he answered, “but Vir- 
ginia were it not for you, I would not care much 
whether I live or die. You do not know what has hap- 
pened to the Great American.” — “O, yes I do, papa, I 
read the papers as well as you, and I think I under- 
stand the ““ull meaning of what I read the other even- 
ing. The Holcombs are showing their hands and I 
■only hope the Warners can take a hand in the game” — 
“Oh, Virginia, you do not understand. What can we 
■do in a case like this?” Mr. Warner told her then all 


no THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

that had taken place since he arrived in the city, not 
forgetting to speak of the discourteous treatment he 
had received at the hands of Holcomb, Sr. “That sur- 
prises me, papa,” said Virginia. “You were there by 
appointment, and Mr. Holcomb should have see you.” 
She was inclined to think there was a mistake some- 
where. Business men were not likely to make appoint- 
ments of that nature and set them aside lightly. “Well, 
he didn’t see me and the probabilities are his failure to 
do so means the final taking over of our system' by the 
Overland.” 

At the thought Mr. Warner was scarcely able to 
control himself. Virginia, reaching for her handbag, 
took from it the long envolope she had guarded so 
carefully during her trip. “Papa, what does this mean?” 
and started to read. “Read the dates, Virginia,” cried 
Mr. Warner, and as slie did so, he lay back limp and 
helpless — but for a moment only. Then straightening 
up, he said, “Well, well, I am certainly the biggest 
idiot that was ever allowed to come to New York 
alone. What in the world made me forget about that 
paper? and how did you happen to think of it, Vir- 
ginia you blessed child?” — “O I do not know, I knew 
you had it, and that it was drawn up lo meet just such 
an emergency as this, and I hunted it up, and here it 
is.” As James Warner listened, he chuckled to him- 
self. “I imagine Holcomb will be mighty glad to see 
me the next time I make an appointment with him. 
Virginia, this makes me feel as though I were not 
capable of managing my affairs any longer, and I am 
tempted to turn the whole thing over to you.” — “O 
my,” laughed the now happy girl, “I have no desire to 
run a railroad, I have all I can do to see after and 
manage you” — “What will I do when you leave me?” 
he asked. “Do not borrow any trouble on that score, 
papa; the present indications are that I will be with 
you for some time to come. Now I am tired and so are 
you Go to sleep, and I will be here in the morning.” 

She kissed him fondly, and left him to seek Dr. 
Wayne, who had engaged rooms for her at a nearby 
hotel. He escorted her thither. “How can I ever thank 
you,” Virginia had begun, but he begged her to desist, 
and tell him of the folks at home. She did so, and 
ended by saying, “You must not remain here longer on 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


Ill 


our account, doctor, because I happen to know the 
‘folks at home’ are expecting you.” — “No, they are 
not,” he replied “I have sent them word that I will 
not be there for a day or two yet, and I hope when I 
go Mr. Warner will be well enough to go, too.” — “I am 
sure you are most kind and thoughtful, — and I shall 
not soon forget it, I assure you,” said Virginia sin- 
cerely, “I think you will find papa more hopeful, and 
I hope much better in the rnorning, and perhaps we 
can start home tomorrow. Good night. Dr. Wayne, 
and many, many, thanks.” 

The next morning, Virginia hastened to the hos- 
pital, and as she had predicted, found her father much 
better. Dr. Wayne was there before her, and after 
greeting her, was about to go but Mr. Warner asked 
him to remain with them for a little time if he could 
conveniently. He consented, and Mr. Warner 
launched at once, into his plan of action in regard to 
the papers Virginia had brought. He said he would 
go himself to the office of the Overland and, have it 
out with Holcomb. “Papa, that is absurd. You must 
not think of such a thing,” said Virginia, “We will send 
for him to come here.” — “He will never come,” said 
Mr. Warner, “and I must have this thing settled.” — 
“You must not go, father. If any one goes I will,” 
•said the plucky girl. “You give me careful directions, 
and I promise you to carry them cut, and will try not 
to lose my head. I have an almost uncontrollable de- 
sire to get even with somebody, and think I would 
just a little rather, it be the Holcombs than anyone 
■else. What say you, papa? Shall I go?” Mr. Warner 
appealed to Dr. Wayne. “Would it be safer for me to 
.go, doctor?” — “By no means,” came the answer 
promptly, “Send Miss Warner, and I will go with her, 
if for no other purpose than to see that the Holcombs 
are not annihilated without first being given a chance 
to seek pardon for their sins.” 

And so Virginia, in company with the young doc- 
tor, who was indeed proving himself “a friend in need,” 
started at once for the offices of the Overland railroad. 
Upon arriving, she was admitted at once to the office of 
the president. “I ^will not be long,” she said to Dr. 
Wayne, who remained in the outer office. 


112 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


The cordial greeting and handshake, with the 
question, “How’s the father,” coming from Mr. Hol- 
comb, so unexpectedly, confused her for a moment, but 
she could not keep from smiling as she thought, “What 
a line actor has been lost to the stage.” — “My father 
has been very ill.” — “Is that so?” said Mr. Holcomb. 
“Yes, he has been in the hospital ever since the day he 
came to see you.” — “But he did not come to see me, as 
I expected.” — “Yes, he was here, and you refused to see 
him,” said Virginia, wondering what he expected to 
gain by claiming her father as the delinquent. Grand- 
pa Tom, considerably mystified, still insisted he had 
heard nothing from James Warner since making an ap- 
pointment with him some days before. “Pray be 
seated. Miss Warner,” he said. “I wish to know more 
of your father’s illness.” 

As she seated herself, the tall, gaunt figure of a 
man, who had stood in the shadow unobserved by 
Virginia, came toward them. He was a stranger to her, 
and she was about to resume her accusations against 
Mr. Holcomb, when he spoke. “I did it, Holcomb.” — 
“Warner sent his card, while you were in at your desk 
there,” pointing to the grating that divided the room, 
“and we were in a hurry to get through, so I told the 
clerk to put him off. I did not want to see him at 
that time and thought it best not to have our confer- 
ence interrupted.” Virginia instantly surmised that 
this smooth, faultlessly garbed gentleman, was none 
other than Douglas Jamison of the Central Union lines, 
of whom she had heard her father speak. She said 
nothing, however, waiting for Grandpa Tom, who 
plainly showed his astonishment, to speak. Finally he 
ventured, “Mr. Jamison, was it not a little early *fcr 
you to take matters into your own hands?” — “O, T 
don’t know, I might as well begin now as any time,” 
came the readv response, “and if this young lady has 
finished her business, we will proceed at once to close 
up this affair of ours, as I am anxious to get away.” 
Virginia, addressing this officious self-satisfied being, 
said, “My business here was not to see you, sir, but as 
you are here, I ask you to remain and hear what the 
Great American has to say in regard to the consolida- 
tion of the Overland and Central Union lines.” And 
drawing the much prized paper from its covering, she 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 113 


read the “option” her father’s system held on the 
Central Union lines and which would not expire until 
March 19, 1911. “I think, Mr. Jamison, you will find 
that will hold good in any court in the land.” Vir- 
ginia was trembling visibly, and wondering what she 
would do next, when Mr. Holcomb spoke, “I knew of 
that ‘option’ but supposed it had expired, as you said, 
Jamison.” That worthy gentleman did not deign to 
reply. To say he was surprised, would be putting it 
mildly. He made no sign, however, and seating him- 
self, riveted his eyes, filled with cunning and baffled 
rage, upon Virginia’s face. She met his gaze fearless- 
ly as he sneered, “Do you think my charming young 

lady, we will accept your statement in regard to this 

matter? The president of the Great American railway 

company may have changed those dates, you know, to 
suit himself.” — “My father is an honorable man,” cried 
Virginia hotly, “and no one but a dishonest person, 
like you seem to be would think of such a thing.” 

To this outburst he paid no need. He was think- 
ing how to gain possession of that accursed paper. He 
knew full well now, in his rascally scheme to get con- 
trol of the Holcomb lines, he had overreached himself. 
He was honest when he told Grandpa Tom the “option”^ 
had expired. He thought it had, and did not take time 
to make sure. When the Great American had helped 
the Central Union lines to meet a crisis and had taken 
the option as security, Douglas Jamison was pleased; 
but he had become ambitious of late and settled., upon 
Grandpa Tom and the Overland as a first step to 
greatness. 

“I would like to see that paper for myself, if you 
have no objections. Miss Warner,” he said in a tone 
designed to arrest suspicion. “O no, I cannot let you 
have it. Anytime you may wish to see it, however,, 
when my father returns to Chicago, you can no doubt 
do so,” said Virginia, thinking to satisfy him. “But 
supposing I insist upon seeing it now, what* could you 
do to prevent it?” and rising slowly, he advanced men- 
acingly toward the now thoroughly frightened girl. — 
Suddenly the door to the grating on the opposite side of 
the room opened and Harry Holcomb sprang to Vir- 
ginia’s side. “Mr. Jamison, do not molest this young 
lady — or you will feel the strength of that,” and he 

/ ■ 


1 14 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


held up a clinched fist. “The game is up and you might 
as well admit it, but you are beaten all right, and in the 
future if you take a notion to tie up to the Overland, 
kindly inform Holcomb, Jr., of your intentions, as here- 
after he can be found in the office with his father.” 
Virginia had clasped Harry’s uplifted arm and all un- 
consciously, was still clinging to it, when he turned to 
her. “Virginia, if you say so. I’ll break every bone in 
his miserable body,” so elated was he at being able to 
render her some little service, his enthusiasm knew no 
bounds. 

Virginia had regained her composure by this time, 
and thanking Harry for his timely intervention, asked 
him to see that the newspapers corrected the account 
of the consolidation published a few days before, know- 
ing it would require this to satisfy her father. “What 
shall I have them say?” he asked. And looking at 
the elder Holcomb, who had dropped into a chair and 
remained silent and motionless, inwardly thanking his 
stars he had escaped so easily, Virginia replied, “Just 
say the deal is off or something of the kind. It does 
not occur to me it is necessary to give the facts to the 
public, but if either of these gentlemen desire to enter 
into detail in regard to the matter, they are at perfect 
liberty to do so. 


\ 




THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 115 


CHAPTER XIV. 

Robert Warfield swung skillfully to the pavement 
from the half-checked trolley at a quarter of six. He 
strode rapidly eastward and now and again the glare of 
an arc light caught his hurrying figure and a pair of 
heels were hitting the sidewalk in swift staccato. It 
was not until he climbed tbe steps of his boarding 
house that he was able to cast from his mind who the 
handsome maiden was that had evidently mistaken him 
for another. “‘Colton I! ‘Picnics!’ ‘Mary!’ Who does 
she think I sm?’’ 

Robert dressed hurriedly for dinner that night. 
There was so much to think about — so much to be ex- 
plained. Never before in his life had stirring events 
succeeded each other so rapidly as they had in the last 
few days. 

Dinner over, Robert returned to his room. He 
thrust his hand into his pocket and drew forth the 
package that Dutch Joe had given him on his death- 
bed. Robert decided that he would at last break the 
“hoodoo’’ and open it. When Joe gave him the pack- 
age he had thought it contained nuggets of gold., then, 
too, the package was labeled with his own initials, 
“R. W.’’ In tearing open the package he found it con- 
tained nothing more than a gentleman’s watch with the' 
same “R. W.’’ engraved on the back, and the name 
“Robert Wainright” on the inside, also a lock of hair, 
and some papers. 

“Looks like a pretty good watch,’’ Robert thought 
as he glanced curiously at the time-piece. He snapped 
open the back of the case to examine the works, when 
he noticed therein the picture of a beautiful woman. 
The picture evidently had been taken years ago. 

Robert cast the contents of the package into his 
traveling bag with little concern, except to wonder how 
Dutch Joe had come into possession of it, and why he 
gave it to him. 

Ten months had passed as the company’s physi- 
cian at the steel plant, and the recent offer from the 


ii6 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


Presbyterian hospital had put Robert to thinking. He 
felt that to accept would mean greater things later on, 
and as advancement was the height of his ambition, 
he wished that his father and mother were only near 
enough that they might advise him. 

Judge John Warfield in New York, having attained 
such prominence by reason of his exceptional tact, 
skill, and logical reasoning, had won fame in the legal 
profession. 

He was the general attorney for the Overland rail- 
way and had planned to meet the president and the 
board of directors of the Great American railway to 
complete final 'arrangements in the contemplated con- 
solidation. But word had come that the president was 
ill at St. Luke’s hospital, and that a postponement of 
ten days was necessary; but as the president was con- 
valescent, any important matter would be considered 
by him. 

Judge Warfield was anxious to get matters settled 
with the Overland and Great American railways. He 
arrived at the hospital and was shown to Warner’s 
room. He found him comfortably seated in a Morris 
chair. After hearty hand-shakes and exchange of 
“Good morning, Mr. Warner,” and “Glad to see you. 
Judge,” Mr. Warfield was seated to the right of the 
convalescent patient. Mr. Warner was glad to see the 
Judge, and remarked that he was sorry of conditions 
that made it necessary for a postponement of the direc- 
tors’ meeting. 

It was now 11 o’clock in the morning, when in 
stepped Dr. Wayne to see how his friend, Mr. Warner, 
was getting along. Judge Warfield looked up, and 
with a smile of surprise remarked, “When did you 
come, my boy? and what are you doing — hunting me 
up? How did you know I was here?” 

Dr. Wayne looked dumb-founded, and remarked 
that he guessed he must be mistaken. Mr. Warner then 
introduced Dr. Wayne and Judge Warfield, explaining 
that the Judge was the general attorney for the Over- 
land. The Judge told the doctor that he was the very 
picture of his son, now a physi'^ian in Chicago. 

Judge Warfield was so impressed by the likeness 
to his son, that he wished to know more of Dr. Wayne, 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 117 

and extended to him a very cordial invitation to take 
dinner with him and his wife at their home on River- 
side Drive. The doctor remarked that he would be in 
New York only a few. days longer and that if he could 
conveniently do so he would call him by telephone and 
arrange for such an engagament. 

After completing arrangements with Mr. Warner 
for a meeting with the board of directors in the gen- 
eral offices on the 15th, Judge Warfield bid both adieu, 
and boarded the street car as the hands of his watch 
pointed to 11.30. Soon the distances between the 
houses grew apace with the blocks traversed, and he 
was, after an hour’s ride, comfortably seated for 
luncheon in Hahn’s. 

Luncheon over, he hurried to his office two blocks 
away, to open his afternoon’s mail. In the stack of 
letters he noticed one from his son Robert. This he 
opened first, and from it gleaned the intelligence that 
the son, having been offered a position in the Presby- 
terian hospital, desired to take a trip home to consult 
with them; and then, too it had been ten months since 
they had seen each other. At the dinner table that 
evening all was rejoicing in anticipation of the son’s 
visit within a week. Days seemed like weeks to the 
anxious parents. Dr. Wayne in the meantime had tel- 
ephoned Judge Warfield that he would be out to dinner 
on Wednesday evening, as he had planned to return te 
Chicago on the following day. 

Dr. Warfield left Chicago on the Atlantic Limited 
at midnight Tuesday and would arrive in New York in 
the early evening. He did not think it worth while ta 
wire his parents of his coming, as his letter had stated 
that he would leave near the middle of the week. 

After arriving at the Grand Central station at 5:20 
Wednesday afternoon, he hurried ever to the subway 
and was soon speeding to Seventy-second street, from 
which point he would have to walk two blocks west. 
He hardly thought his parents would be looking for 
him, as most of their friends take the all-night ride 
from Chicago. 

The house, he found, was brilliantly lighted and it 
sfemed that his coming was very much expected. He 
saw through the window his mother seated at the 


ii8 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


library table reading, and his father pouring over some 
papers, that appeared to be legal documents. 

He pushed the button which quickly brought his 
father to the door. The door unlocked, a warm hand 
was extended, greeting the new arrival. .“Good even- 
ing Dr. Wayne,” said the Judge, “I am delighted that 
you are here with us before your return home.” 

“Well, Father, can it be that you have forgotten 
your son in ten months?” said Robert. 

“Well, upon my word, I have made the mistake, 
thinking you were Dr. Wayne, as he was coming out to 
dinner, this evening. Hejs your very image, my boy, 
and I am so glad that you will get to see him. Dr. 
Wayne is from near Chicago and is a special friend of 
President Warner of the Great American railway and 
I mistook him for you at the hospital the other morn- 
ing. I never saw two look more alike — you would pass 
for cwins.” 

The mother greeted the son in a most cordial way, 
and, she remarked that she could never make a mistake 
as the Judge had done. She would know her boy and 
his features too well ever to make a mistake of that 
kind. 

Scarcely five minutes had elapsed when the door 
bell rang again. Mrs. Warfield opened it and in aston- 
ishment remarked, “You rascal, I thought you had gone 
upstairs to take a bath. How came you out here?” 

Just then the Judge stepped from the library and 
greeted Dr. Wayne, introducing him to his wife. Mrs. 
Warfield could hardly believe her eyes. The exact im- 
age of her son Robert. 

Dr. Wayne was seated and informed by the Judge 
that the son from Chicago had arrived a few moments 
before and would be down shortly. 

Mrs. Warfield excused herself and went to the din- 
ing room to arrange for another plate. 

Dr. Warfield after dressing, slipped downstairs 
and was enjoying a chat with his mother in the dining 
room. He hardly felt like leaving to meet Dr. Wayne, 
who was being entertained by the father. 

When Mrs. Warfield and Robert entered the draw- 
ing room and Robert was introduced to Dr. Wayne, it 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 119^ 

was with a great degree of astonishment to both the 
doctors, in seeing in each other such striking re- 
semblances. 

Dr. Warfield when informed by Dr. Wayne that hO' 
was associated with Dr. Cardwell at Colton, remem- 
bered meeting Dr. Cardwell at the hospital when he ad- 
ministered to “Joe Krable.” “Krable,” muttered' 
Wayne, “Krable?” — 

Mrs. Warfield stepped to the door and announced' 
that dinner was ready. 

The trio marched to the dining room, the two doc- 
tors being seated opposite each other. 

Mrs. Warfield had prepared an elaborate meal and 
the conversation did not lag for a moment; but this did 
not keep strange thoughts from running through Dr. 
Wayne’s mind. He was in a state of wonder and per- 
plexity. Was it possible that Judge Warfield was his 
father? Was it possible that the gracious elderly lady 
was his mother? Could it be possible the young man, 
who so closely resembled him was his twin brother? 
Dr. Wayne pondered the question in his mind with the 
greatest possible interest and curiosity, meanwhile the 
other members of the group were set to thinking by the 
scene. 

The hinges of hospitality to this spacious home- 
had always been well oiled, and many guests, some of 
them being of considerable prominence, had seen the 
inside of this well appointed dining room. However, 
none of the other gatherings, large or small, had been 
of such intense interest to every soul present as was 
this little party of four. 

While it seemed from the very entrance to the din- 
ing room, that the mind of each was working most 
actively, yet not even Raymond had ever dreamed of 
the startling life secrets that were to be revealed on 
this never-to-be-forgotten night. 

The proper formality of confining the conversation- 
chiefly to the things that were of special interest to 
Dr. Wayne was at first indulged in; but on account of 
Dr. Warfield’s having been away from home for so long' 
a time, it was most natural that the conversation soon- 
drifted to discussing the events that had transpired 
since he left home. 

When Dr. Wayne was relating the story of his long 
acquaintance with the Warner family, and of the things; 


120 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


that he was interested in, it w,as interesting to see the 
expression in the eyes of first one of the Warfield fam- 
ily and then of the other, as they kept catching the 
•close family resemblance to Robert, not only in his ap- 
pearance, but in his tone of voice as well. 

Now that the Warfield’s were discussing their own 
affairs, it gave Raymond more of an opportunity to 
/study them, and he would first glance at Mrs. Warfield 
and then at the fine features of the Judge, for regard- 
less of the topic of conversation, the uppermost 
thoughts that were fairly chasing through Raymond’s 
brain, were concerning the secret of his own identity. 

He tried to discern some resemblance in the feat- 
ures of Mrs. Warfield, but the unanswered question re- 
mained in his mind. Could it be possible that this was 
his own mother? No, and well, yes, and then, no. 

Now he is taking an unobserved glance at the 
Judge, when all at once, from an unusual sparkle in 
Raymond’s eyes you can plainly read in his mind, that 
he has solved the great problem to his satisfaction. 

Not from anything that was said, but uniting the 
facts of Robert’s being such a perfect likeness of him- 
self and that he knew he had a twin brother some- 
where, and now discovering that Judge Warfield actual- 
ly had the same prominent chin and many of the same 
facial lines as his son Robert, he is thoroughly con- 
vinced, and can now with difRiculty keep from launch- 
ing right into the subject. 

“Mother,” said Robert, “I was just thinking what 
a strange coincidence, that it is just five years ago to- 
night since you gave me that little surprise dinner 
party in this very room, when you invited in a num- 
ber of my classmates, as a kind of farewell party, just 
before my graduation, and now you are giving me a 
surprise dinner party upon my return home.” 

“Well, Robert, I had not thought of this being 
upon the anniversary of that little party, but I admit I 
have had a surprise tonight, as well as have all of us, 
while you were the only one surprised at the other 
event,” replied Mrs. Warfield. 

“That reminds 'me,” said Robert, “speaking of sur- 
prises, I have not yet related an incident that happened 
to me in Chicago while on a crowded street car one day 
last week. A beautiful young woman started to talk to 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 121 


me, and really asked me a question or two before I 
could realize, that she was intending her talk for me, 
for I had never seen her before. Wh n I finally recov- 
■ered sufficiently to tell her that she must be mistaken, 
she slipped through the crowd and off the car so quick- 
ly that I scarcely caught another look at her; however, 
I’d know her if I ever saw her again; she had such 
charming eyes. But now since I have met you. Dr. 
Wayne, I have been wondering if it could not have been 
one of your friends.” Of course it took but a recital 
of the questions that the young lady had addressed to 
Dr. Warfield, to establish the identity of Virginia in the 
mind of Dr. Wayne, and when the Warfields learned 
that it was no less than the daughter of the great rail- 
road president they were all greatly interested and 
pleased as well. 

“Oh, I’ve had so many experiences of late,” con- 
tinued Robert, “that I can’t think to tell of them all 
at one time. I may have another surprise package in 
my traveling bag, too, for I have some papers there 
that I have not yet opened.” Then Dr. Warfield related 
of his presence at the deathbed of Dutch Joe, and of 
his placing in his hands the mysterious package. It is 
needless to state that by the time he had finished tell- 
ing the strange story the curiosity of- all present was 
such that they could scarcely await the serving of the 
last course of the dinner, before wanting to see the 
papers which were as yet unopened. 

As soon as dinner was over, Robert rushed up- 
stairs to bring down the package, as Dr. Wayne and 
Mr. and Mrs. Warfield repaired to the drawing room. 
Dr. Wayne, all stirred with the events of the evening, 
almost unconscious of what he was doing, walked over 
to the mantel and stood face to face with a photograph 
of no other than Ellen Rhinehart. “Well,” exclaimed 
Dr, Wayne, “is not this a picture of Miss Ellen Rhine- 
hart? And are you acquainted with her?” Being in- 
formed that Robert and Ellen had become fast friends 
while at college. Dr. Wayne remarked that “this is cer- 
tainly a pretty small old world, after all.” 

By this time Dr. Warfield had returned with the 
mysterious package, and all gathered round the little 
square table to learn what this poor illiterate young 
man had held as a secret and at his death had turned 


j-2 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


over to Dr. Warfield. 

On the wrapper was “Joe Krable to R. W.” There' 
was the watch, with the monogram on the back, the 
same as on the outside of the package. 

“Is there anything on the inside to determine who 
it belonged to?” asked Dr. Wayne. “Nothing but a 
woman’s picture,” answered Robert, and the name, 
Robert Wainright.” 

“To whom is the envelope addressed?” spoke 
Wayne. He thought he could see his own name upon 
it. It read, “Dr. Raymond Wayne, Colton, Ind. care 
Dr. Cardwell.” 

“This grows more mysterious every moment!’^ 
thought ’Vvayne. 

“It’s your package. Dr. Wayne, instead of mine,” 
said Robert. 

Dr. Wayne opened it — such excitement and 
anxiety — ^he had never before experienced. He read, 
“Dr. Raymond Wayne, 
care Dr. Cardwell, 

Colton, Ind. 

“You think you’re Raymond Wayne, but 
you ain’t. You be’s the son of Mrs. Robert 
Wainright. When you’s twins come to this 
world, I was your nurse. I took you and 
left you on Doc. Cardwell’s doorstep and 
then took your twin brother to Bancroft and* 
left him at the parson’s — Parson Scott. 

“Yer father was a good man, too, and 
had heaps of money cornin’ to him, but he* 
married agin his father’s wishes and was 
disowned. He lost his life in a theater fire- 
in Philadelphia by beiin’ mashed to death, 
while at a show given by a great actress, 
Juanita Dockland. 

“This left your poor mother without 
anything when you’s was born. 

“When your ma married Tom Rhine- 
hart, she give me her locket and your pa’s 
watch and told me to give you one and one 
to your twin brother, but made me promise 
never to give the secret of your birth as long 
as I lived. 


“GRANNY KRABLE.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 125, 


The reading of this letter made a profound im^ 
pression on the minds of both brothers. They looked 
at each other in mutual astonishment as if each wished 
to express his own feelings. 

Said Dr. Wayne, “Doesn’t this look as if we were 
brothers?” to which Dr. Warfield replied, “Certainly 
these papers seem to indicate that we are.” 

Robert turned to Mrs. Warfield with a strange look 
in his eyes, and asked, “Mother, what does all this 
mean?” The tears were already running down her 
cheeks and the Judge had turned his face away to avoid 
showing hisi emotions. 

“Oh, my boy! My dear boy!” cried Mrs. Warfield, 
“forgive me! Oh, forgive me if I have done wrong in 
keeping this from you. We have loved you as our own, 
and when we were almost overcome with the sadness 
of the death of our little baby boy and Mrs. Scott 
brought you to us, it seemed almost like a gift from 
Heaven that saved us from losing all our interest in 
life.” 

Seeing that the disclosures could leave no doubt 
in the minds of all as to their relationship, we will 
close the doors upon the affecting scene and not at- 
tempt to describe, for no pen can describe the feelings 
of these two stalwart men who as brothers had. met 
for the first time since birth. 

There was no 'sleep in the Warfield home that 
night until the early morning hours. 

Dr. Wayne remained at the Warfield home and on 
the day following, instead of leaving for Chicago alone, 
as he had planned, he was accompanied by Robert, 
and the two brothers started home to have their first 
interview with their mother and sister^ 


124 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


CHAPTER XV. 

In the Overland company’s office, things were tak- 
ing on too serious an aspect, and Mr. Holcomb, not 
wishing to cause a scene, remarked to Mr. Jamison in 
a laughing manner “that it looked to him at present 
that the Overland had joined ‘hands’ with the Great 
American.” 

This timely remark, while it brought color to Vir- 
ginia’s and Hary’s faces, had the desired effect. 

Mr. Jamison laughed a sneering laugh in response 
and turning to Mr. Holcomb, said “I see my time is up 
and I must hurry to catch my train.” And without 
further words turned and left the room. 

As the door closed, Mr. Holcomb turned to Vir- 
ginia and said, “This unfortunate affair is certainly 
very embarrassing to me, Miss Warner. Do te’l me 
more of your father’s condition. To think that I, a life- 
long friend, should have caused him such annoyance, 
grieves me beyond measure.” 

This turn in affairs was to Virginia both agreeable 
and unexpected and she, now a little more at ease, told 
of her father’s shock, of her hasty visit to New York, 
how she had found him much improved, “but greatly 
disturbed, Mr. Holcomb by your apparent indifference.” 

“I assured father there must be some mistake, 
and at last got his permission to come and see you, but 
not until after he had obtained Dr. Wayne’s consent to 
pilot me safely here.” 

“Wayne!” exclaimed Harry, ’“Where is he?” Vir- 
ginia pointed to the door of the main office, and Harry 
hurried to meet his friend. 

“Miss Warner,” said Mr. 'Holcomb, “your call this 
morning hos proved a great blousing to me. I now see 
how, I was being led into a trap by this man Jamison, 
and I shall always feel indebted to you for my escape. 
Your wishes in regard to correcting the newspaper ar- 
ticles will receive our immediate attention and if you 
think it wise I will go at once to see your father.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 125 


“You are kind indeed, Mr. Holcomb, but as father 
•generally feels more rested in the morning, perhaps a 
morning call would be better. 

“No doubt that would be best,” said Mr. Holcomb, 
^‘and unless I hear from you that a later call would be 
advisable, I will see him tomorrow at 10 o’clock.” 

When Virginia went out into the main office she 
found Raymond and Harry so deeply interested in their 
conversation that she was at first unnoticed. “Well, 
Hr. Wayne,” said Virginia, “I am sorry to have kep't 
you waiting so long, but I see you are enjoying your- 
self.” 

Yes, indeed, Harry was just telling me of the good 
times you folks had last summer at father’s.” Virginia 
tried to assume an unconcerned air, but her face light- 
ed up for a moment with the old-time light that Harry 
had not seen since they were so happy at Colton. 

“How long will you be in the city. Miss Warner?” 
said Harry. 

“We will return home as soon as father’s business 
can be arranged satisfactorily. I am anxious to get the 
settlement building well under way, if not completed, 
before we go to Washington for the aviation week 'cel- 
ebration next fall. Father has a dear friend there who 
has invited us to come, and as father’s friend’s son. 
Lieutenant Harvey Covington, writes of the great times 
they are having down at Fort Wayne at the aeroplane 
testing grounds, I am anxious to go, as I have always 
had a mad desire to make a flight. But you surely 
know the danger connected with these flights?” said 
Harry, trying to act unconcerned. “Yes, but that only 
adds to the enjoyment,” answered Virginia, with a look 
of triumph on her face, for she had noted the change 
that had come over Harry’s countenance when she had 
mentioned “father’s friend’s son” — “And, Dr. Wayne,” 
she continued “we must hurry back to father. He will 
be anxious about us.”— “That’s so,” said Raymond, and 
with a formal “Good afternoon, Mr. Holcomb,” Vir- 
ginia turned and left the office. 

Virginia said but little on the way home, only 
once breaking the silence by saying, “I have good news 
tor father, and I hope to And him ready for it. 


126 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


Raymond understood by this that her visit had 
been satisfactory, but asked no questions. 

“When they reached the hospital, the nurse ex- 
plained to Virginia that her father had had quite a 
nervous spell after she went away, but had at last dozed 
off into a restful sleep. “I am so glad,” said Virginia, 
“for he will awake refreshed ready for the good news 
I have for him.” 

Raymond excused himself, saying he would call 
tomorrow, but added, “If there is anything I can do for 
you at any time, do not hesitate to call me.” 

While Virginia waited for her father to awake, 
she spent the time in writing to Mary and Ellen. How 
happy she was to be able to tell them conditions were 
so favorable. 

When Mr. Warner awoke, Virginia was sitting by 
his side, and as she related her experiences of the morn- 
ing a satisfied expression stole over his face, as he 
drank in her every word. 

Virginia spent the remainder of the afternoon 
reading to her father, and when she left him for the 
night it was with a feeling that tomorrow would find 
him much improved. 

The next morning found Mr. Warner in fine spir- 
its, and when Mr. Holcomb arrived at the hospital, he 
was shown at once to Mr. Warner’s room. Before the 
close of their conference it was fully determined that 
they would purchase the stock of the Central Union 
line on the option held by Mr. Warner. It was also 
agreed that at the next directors’ meeting they would 
propose the consolidation of the Great American and 
Overland railways. 

During the time intervening between this and the 
directors’ meeting Harry had the opportunity of being 
with Virginia quite often, and it was an opportunity he 
made the most of. In the position he now held, he did 
not have to hide his identity nor to conceal the fact that 
he was able to entertain her in a most lavish manner. 

In spite of the good times Virginia was having, 
she had not forgotten her cherished desire for building- 
the settlement house, and she lost no opportunity, when 
occasion warranted, of dropping a word to her father 
about the matter. Occasional letters from Mary kept 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


127 


• her in touch with the work at home, and brought news 
from Ellen and. of her mother’s failing health. 

As the train hurried the two doctors on toward 
Chicago, strange thoughts were passing through their 
minds. Robert had never seen Mrs. Rhinehart, and 
many were the questions he asked about his mother. 
Now that Raymond knew that Mrs. Rhinehart was his 
own mother, he seemed to long to go to her immedi- 
ately with the thought of caring for her with the true 
love of a son. It is magnificent to be a skilful and suc- 
cessful physician and be able to relieve the physical 
ills of humanity; however it is better to be a noble man 
than to be a physician. Raymond Wayne was both. He 
of course knew that Mrs. Rhinehart lacked in many of 
the finer qualities, but because he never spoke ill of 
any one, he did not mention her lack of culture to 
Robert. 

“It seems strange to me,” said Raymond, “that 
Ellen never noticed our resemblance.” — “That is easily 
explained,” said Robert, “when I was in school, I had 
a smooth face and I have never seen her since. While 
I understand that she has never seen you without a 
beard.” “O, yes,” said Raymond, “I had never thought 
of that. We will see if she recognizes you when we 
g3t home.” 

At six o’clock that, evening, Mary received a tele- 
gram from Raymond stating that he would arrive in 
Chicago the i. xt morning at nine o’clock. “O, Ellen j” 
said Mary, ‘T don’t suppose he would get the message 
I sent telling about your mother’s sudden collapse, but 
it’s all for the best anyway, as he will be here so soon.” 

When Ellen decided to return at once to Chicago 
with her mother for further consultation in regard 
to her impaired health, she planned wiser than she 
knew, for her mother’s condition continued daily to 
grow worse rather than to improve. Poor Ellen! Al- 
though rested and refreshed by her short stay at Vir- 
ginia’s, was not wholly prepared for the long days and 
nights of anxious watching at her mother’s bedside, 
and when Mary went to Chicago to be with Ellen, she 
was shocked to see the great change that had come over 
her friend. In place of the once bright and happy 
Ellen, she was now in a state of despondency and gloom 
that was depressing and pathetic. 


128 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

Mrs. Rhinehart did not know, Mary at first, but 
that morning she seemed to recognize her for a few 
moments. She apparently remembered that she had 
intended giving Dr. Wayne her secret, but fearing that 
on account of her condition she would not be able to 
explain it to him; and knowing the affection that ex- 
isted between Mary and Dr. Wayne, she decided to tell 
her the secret. Calling Mary to her she said, “I have- 
something to say to you, Mary. The secret of my 
life — ” But this sentence was never finished, as she 
fell back on her pillow apparently lifeless. The doctor 
was hastily summoned, and in the meantime the girls 
did all in their power to restore her. 

When the doctor arrived he pronounced it a slight 
stroke of paralysis, but did not tell them the serious 
nature of her attack, as he saw they were greatly 
frightened. “If Raymond were only here now,” 
thought Mary, “how he could help us.' 

Morning came with little change in Mrs. Rhine- 
hart’s condition. Mary, fearing Raymond had not re- 
ceived her message, decided to go to the station to 
meet him thinking he might go direct to Colton. The 
message, however, had been wired back in care of the 
train, and was handed to him before they pulled into 
the Union station. “O how srrry I am,” said Raymond, 
“I was in hopes mother would be better and ready for 
the little surprise we Tiad for her.” 

On arrival, Raymond was trying to assist a woman 
who had a Roosevelt family, with her luggage, and 
Robert was the first to leave the train. Imagine his 
surprise when a young woman rushed up to him, threw 
her arms about his neck, and cried, “O, I am so glad 
you have come at last!” Before Robert could say a 
word, Raymond stepped to Mary and said, “Why, sis- 
ter, what are you doing?” Mary stepped back in as- 
tonishment. “Mary,” said 'Raymond, “I am not at all 
surprised at your mistake. This is my own twin broth- 
er, Robert, of whom you have never heard. I will tell 
you more about him later. But now do tell me how 
mother — I mean Ellen’s mother — is. I just received 
your telegram since we entered the city. Shan’t we 
go to them at once?” and caling a taxicab, they were 
soon at their home. 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


129 


(Ellen answered the bell. Raymond seeing her 
look of astonishment, was the first to speak, “Miss 
Rhinehart, this is my brother, Robert.” “Ellen you 
should have seen the beautiful mistake I made at the 
station,” said Mary as they entered the sitting room, 
“but if Robert is Raymond’s own twin brother, I don’t 
see that my mistake was so serious, for if he is Ray- 
mond’s brother he is mine, too. 

“How is your mother, Ellen?” said Raymond. — 
“Mother slept very little last night, and as she has just 
gone to sleep I thought we would better wait here until 
she awakes.” Raymond, however, was so anxious to 
see his mother that he said, ‘ Sometimes doctors can 
judge better of a patient’s condition when she is asleep, 
and, with your permission, we will slip in quietly and 
see her.” 

“O, Ellen,” said Mary, after the doctors had left 
the room, “don’t you feel like a big load of responsi- 
bility had been lifted from your shoulders? I do.” 
“How do you suppose Raymond found out that Robert 
was his brother? I wonder where he found him? It 
all seems so strange.” 

When Raymond and Robert looked upon the face 
of their mother, it was hard for them to control their 
emotions for they saw that it was a question of but a 
few days that she would be with them. 

When the boys returned to the sitting room, Ray- 
mond said, “Girls, we had a surprise in store for moth- 
er, but I am afraid she will never know of it.” “Ray- 
mond, why do you call Mrs. Rhinehart mother?” said 
Mary. “This is growing more mysterious every min- 
ute.” The hoys looked at each other for a minute, then 
Robert said, “Raymond, you are better acquainted with 
the facts, you tell them our story.” 

When Raymond had finished both girls were in 
tears — a combination of tears of joy and tears of sad- 
ness. While Ellen had lost whom sre supposed to be 
her lover, she had gained two brothers, and while 
Mary had lost a brother, she could now see in Raymond 
more than a brother. “Only yesterday,” said Ellen, 
“I seemed so alone in the world with no ray of light 
to illumine my path, while now I have two brothers to 
comfort and help me.” “But who will comfort me?’^ 
said Mary. Raymond took her hand in his and, press- 
ing it to his lips, said, “You shall not be neglected.” 


130 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

“Won’t mother and father be surprised when they 
come this evening?’’ said Mary. “Not so much, per- 
liaps, as you were, for they knew why I went to New, 
York. I know they will be glad I have solved the 
mystery.” ' . 

The next morning Ellen received the following 
letter from Virginia: 

“My dear Ellen: — 

“Your good letter received, but 
we were grieved to hear of your mother’s 
critical condition. How glad I am Mary 
can be with you, and I suppose by this time 
Raymond and Robert are with you, too.* 

How overjoyed you must have been when 
the mystery was explained. You are a dear 
sweet girl and deserve much. 

“And, oh! I have another surprise in 
store for you. Father told me this morn- 
ing he was so well pleased with the turn 
in his business affairs that he wanted me 
to write to you at once and, tell you he had 
set aside $50,000 to be used for the con- 
struction of the settlement building. I 
shall be home soon as I am anxious to get 
things started as soon as possible. 

“I have written to Mr. Smith, a real 
estate agent, in whom father has much con- 
fidence, asking him to get an option on our 
proposed location. I think I told you I 
wanted the ground on which the tenement 
house stood where poor Ned Sherley was 
killed. 

“O, Ellen, I am so happy. I will have 
so much to tell you and Mary when I see 
you. Till then, believe me your true friend, 

VIRGINIA.” 

Ellen was of course overjoyed w,ith the good news 
that the letter contained. To think that the ideal that 
she had looked forward to for so long was to material- 
ize, and that she was really to have a settlement build- 
ing, gave her more pleasure than had she received news 
that she was to receive the money for herself. 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 131 

0 

In New^ York, Mr. Warner and Virginia were pre- 
paring for their homeward journey. At the directors’ 
meeting things had been carried out as Mr. Warner and 
Mr. Holcomb had planned, the two companies being 
consolidated. Mr. Warner was made . president and 
Harry Holcomb vice president and manager. Mr. Hol- 
comb, Sr., wishing to retire from active service, ac- 
cepted the position of chairman of the board of di- 
rectors. 

Just as Mr. Warner and Virginia were entering 
their private car to start for home, a telegraph mes- 
senger came rushing up with a telegram and handed 
it to Mr. Warner. Thinking perhaps it might be some- 
thing requiring attention before leaving the city^ he 
hastily opened it and read: 

“Mother died this morning at ten 
o’clock. Funeral Monday afternoon. 

“RAYMOND WAINRIGHT.’^ 

Mr. Warner handed Virginia the message, and hur- 
riedly wrote this reply: 

“We will arrive tomorrow morn- 
ing at nine o’clock. 

' “JAMES WARNER.’’ 

Virginia seeing her father was much moved did 
not speak. When at last the long silence was broken. 
Mr. Warner said, “How fortunate we had planned to 
go at this time. I hope we may be of some assistance 
to Ellen — Poor child, she has surely had her share of 
troubles.’’ Virginia broke the next silence by asking 
her father if they couldn’t take Ellen home with them 
after all was over. “I know she is completely worn 
out and after she is rested she can help us in our plan- 
ning about the building.’’ — “You may do as you like^ 
my daughter, but we’d better not plan too far ahead 
at present.’’ 

Six weeks have passed, Mr. Warner and Virginia 
are seated alone in the family sitting room. Virginia 
looked up and said, “It seems rather lonesome tonight, 
doesn’t it, daddy, with Ellen gone, but I am so glad 
she could go back to the Presbyterian hospital to finish 
her course. She is so ambitious, and now that Robert 


132 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

is there permanently she will not he lonesome. What 
a help she was to us in our planning the building, but 
then no one knows the needs more than she does. I 
wonder if Raymond has made up his mind to remain 
at Colton ?»’ “I think he has,” said Mr. Warner^ “from 
what he said to me the other evening. Dr. Cardwell 
wants him to remain, in fact really needs, him.” — “Well, 
it is nice for all of us to be so close together, for we 
do have nice times^” said Virginia. 

“By the way, daughter, Mr. Ware told me this 
morning that the tearing down of the old tenement 
house would, be completed today and that work on'^the 
foundation would begin tomorrow. We were certainly 
fortunate in securing that property at such a low figure. 
The money saved in this way you may use for furnish- 
ing the building. 

These were happy days for Virginia. Mr. Warner 
not having so many business cares as formerly, had 
more time to spend with his daughter, and they enjoyed 
many happy hours together. Now they were to be in 
Chicago while the building was being erected. 

During the summer a great deal of time was spent 
in looking a^'ter details of construction, yet many pleas- 
ant days were passed, at the Cardwell home together 
with Ellen and her two brothers. Harry’s visits though 
necessarily short were frequent, and as Dr. and Mrs. 
Cardwell watched the young people they remarked to 
each other that they were glad Harry and Virginia had 
cleared up all their misunderstandings and were even 
happier than they were last summer. 

Virginia had been so taken up with her work she 
had, not realized that the summer was nearly gone. One 
evening when they were all at Dr. Cardwell’s, some 
one said^ “Virginia, I thought you were going to Wash- 
ington this fall to the celebration?” “I certainly am,’’ 
said Virginia, “and I want this whole crowd to go with 
me. Isn’t that right daddy?’’ “I think that was what 
we planned,’ said Mr. Warner^ “if they will go.” “Of 
course they' will go,” said Virginia, “Ellen will have 
finished her course by then and will need a little rest 
before taking up her work again; Robert can get away 
for one week; and I think Mary and, Raymond have 
been planning to take some kind of a trip.” 

“My,” said Dr. Cardwell, “Virginia can plan things 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 133 


in a hurry. When does the celebration happen?’’ 

“I guess there is need for hurry,” said Mr. Warner, 
^‘as the celebration begins on the 24th, and this is the 
10th.” — “That will give us just two weeks. We will 
all be ready except Harry. His last letter said he was 
afraid an important business engagement at that time 
would keep him from joining us.’’ 

“Now don’t look so disheartened, Virginia,” said 
Dr. Cardwell, “I understand Harry is making quite a 
name for himself and you know you wouldn’t have him 
neglect his business.” “No — but then I am disappointed 
just the same.’’ 

The next evening at the supper table Raymond 
said “Mother^ Mary and I have been doing a little plan- 
ning today, but we want to take you into our confidence 
and get your advice. You know we had decided to be 
married the 14th of next month; but if we are to go 
with the Warners to Washington^ wouldn’t it be a little 
surprise for Virginia if we should be married just be- 
fore going to Chicago to join them? We had planned 
to have a very quiet wedding anyway. What do you 
think of the idea?” 

Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell remained silent for some 
time. Mrs. Cardwell at last said, “We certainly want 
you to do as you think best, and your plan seems a good 
one; but I thought you wanted Virginia to at the 
wedding.’’ “We did. think so at first, but now' seem to 
favor our new plan.’ 

Those two weeks were busy times for the girls, 
and Virginia did not take time to run out to Colton, 
knowing Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell expected to go to Chi- 
cago to see them off. It was therefore an easy thing 
for Mary to keep her secret. 

In the meantime Mrs. Cardwell was also ve^y busv, 
even if the wedding was to be a very quiet affair she 
was looking after every detail, leaving nothing undone 
she could do to make the wedding of her only daughter 
a delightful occasion. Everything was to be as care- 
fully arranged as if they were expecting many guests. 

Ellen and Robert were also kept in ignorance of 
the wedding, but were invited down to the Cardwells 
for dinner the day they were to start. Wishing to have 
a little time to visit with the Cardwells, they decided 
to take the train that would get them to Colton at 9:30 


134 the mysterious MONOGRAM. 

in the morning. Just as they were ready to start a fine- 
looking old man stepped up to Robert and said, “Is this; 
Dr. Robert Warfield?” — “Yes^ sir,’’ said Robert^ “but I 
don’t think I remember you.’’ — “I guess not,” said the 
old gentleman, “you have not seen me since you were 
a few weeks’ old. My name is Scott — Rev. Scott. I 
was pastor of your father’s church when you lived at 
Bancroft.” — “Well, well,’’ said Robert, “can it be pos- 
sible that to you and, your good wife I am indebted to 
for the good father, mother, and home I have had 
since babyhood? I didi not find out until about six^ 
months ago that Judge and Mrs. Warfield were not my 
own father and mother. How glad I am' to see you, 
Mr. Scott. How did you know I was living in Chi- 
cago?” 

“I was reading a Chicago paper and saw the arti- 
cle stating that you had, been appointed as one of the 
doctors at the Presbyterian hospital, and as it gave 
your father’s name, I was sure you were the same Rob- 
ert Warfield we once had known, so determined when 
I came to the city to look you up. How are your 
father and mother? I suppose you hear from them fre- 
quently?” 

“Yes, and I was in New York about six months 
ago to see them. This was the time I learned of mjr 
identity. Perhaps you never knew I had a twin broth- 
er? Well^ I have, and this young lady (turning to 
Ellen) is my sister^ Miss Rhinehart.” 

“I am certainly glad to have met you. Dr. War- 
field, but I must go now, as I want to take the 9:30 
train to Bancroft. I hope to meet you sometime again.’’ 

“We will go when you do, Mr. Scott, as we take 
the same train out to Colton. This will give us a little 
more time to get acquainted,.” “Colton,” said Rev. 
Scott, “Do you know Dr. Cardwell?’’ — “That is where 
we are going, Bro. Scott. My twin brother, Raymond, 
was left at 'Dr. Cardwell’s the same night I was left at 
your house.” “Indeed,” said Rev. Scott, “I never heard 
of this^ and Dr. Cardwell was our own family physician. 
But then we left Bancroft just after it happened, which 
I suppose is the reason. I want to see Dr. Cardwell 
myself and believe I will stop off at Colton between 
trains, if it won’t interfere with your plans.’’ — “Cer- 
tainly not,’’ said Robert, “we will be glad to have you.”’ 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 135 


Having' missed, the early train it was 11 o’clock 
"before they reached the Cardwell home. Mrs. Cardwell 
received them at the door, and was greatly surprised 
to see Rev. Scott. Ellen was the first to notice that 
the house was beautifully decorated and asked Mrs. 
Cardwell what was going to happen. 

“I am afraid, nothing would have happened if you 
had not brought Rev. Scott with you, as our minister’s 
daughter just telephoned that her father was taken 
suddenly ill and could not perform the ceremony. Your 
coming, Bro. Scott, seems providential as 'our daughter 
Mary was to be married at 12 noon. We shall be de- 
lighted to have you perform the ceremony.” To this 
he readily assented. During this conversation, Ellen 
made a run for upstairs to find Mary. 

An hour later the Card, well home was the scene 
of a pretty home wedding, the first that had ever been 
solemnized under this roof. 

The two private cars (one being President War- 
ner’s and the other Harry Holcomb’s) were in the finest 
order possibl when they were attached to the Limited 
in the Chicago station Thursday evening. Every piece 
of brass seemed to have an extra polish and the por- 
ters looked as if they also had received an extra groom- 
ing. 

Mr. Warner and, Virginia were the first to arrive, 
hut had no more than entered the car when Robert 
and Ellen were seen coming through the station gates. 
Raymond and Mary arrived just as the conductor was 
calling “All aboard!” 

Everyone seemed to be in fine spirits and it was a 
jolly party that was now on its way to the National 
capital to spend a week’s vacation. Neither Ellen nor 
Robert had ever been 10 Washington before s 1 i.he 
other members of the party had considerable sport jok- 
ing them about the wonderful things they were going 
to show them. 

As the conversation grew a little less hilarious^ 
Mary said, “We are going to have wedding cake -to 
dream on tonight; a young lady was married at Colton 
this noon and I have enough cake for us all.” It took 
Virginia but a moment to see through it all, and clasp- 
ing Mary in her arms she cried as if her heart would 
break. “Why, Virginia,’’ said her father, “What is the 


136 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

matter?” — “Oh, nothing, father, I am just foolish, but 
I can tell you now why I kept finding rice on the floor.”" 

It was now Raymond’s time to act, and taking 
Mary by the hand, he introduced her to Mr. Warner as 
“Mrs. Raymond, Wainwright.’’ “This is indeed a sur- 
prise,” said Mr. Warner^ “but you certainly have my 
congratulations and best wishes^ and I don’t see any 
thing to cry about at all, Virginia.” 

As the train stopped at Ft. Wayne, the porter came 
in with a telegram addressed to Dr. Wainright. On 
opening it he read as follows: 

“Message received and father joins 
me in wishing you and Mrs. Wainright 
everything good. I further extend my sym- 
pathy for having to be with such a friv- 
olous crowd on your first journey. 

“HARRY.” 

Virginia received the next telegram, and in all 
Harry enlivened the party with no less than seven 
messages on the way which helped some to make up 
for his enforced absence. 

The many interesting incidents of the trip to 
Washington need not be described here, but as Ellen 
kept a diary we may at some future time be given a 
chance to read it. During this trip, however, she em- 
phatically refused to allow any of the party to read it, 
preferring to wait until she could get home and dress 
it up. 

As the train pulled into the fine new Union station 
at Washington, they were all ready and eager to get off 
and to the hotel for even the best of train accommoda- 
tions soon become irksome. 

As they passed through tha station Robert made 
several complimentary remarks about the beauty of the 
building, which Mr. Warner explained was one of the 
finest in the country, costing four million dollars. 

At the station gates they were met by Mr. Coving- 
ton and his son Harvey. They were soon all seated in 
Lieutenant Covington’s six cylinder Mitchell, with the 
exception of Mr. Covington^ who stated that he had 
some matters to attend to but would see them all at 
dinner. 

A few minutes’ time brought them up to the Ar- 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM.' 137 


lington where all of the party were comfortably housed, 
and then Lieutenant Covington took Mr. "Warner and 
Virginia on to their home^ first telling the rest of the 
party he would be around with his car again about five 
o’clock to take a little drive before going to dinner at 
their home. 

The following day Lieutenant Covington took the 
party in his car to Ft. Meyer to the aeroplane testing 
ground. Virginia did not tell her secret to the rest of 
the party — about her having made an agreement with 
Harvey to take a flight in his aeroplane. By so doing 
she avoided many warnings of danger with which she 
knew she would otherwise be bothered. 

When Harvey had everything in readiness he gave 
Virginia a quick sign, and she stepped in without the 
least hesitation and took her seat beside him, and be- 
fore the rest of the party were aware of what was 
happening, they were off. 

Virginia waved her hand to them as they ascended, 
but did not see that just at that moment Harry Hol- 
comb came rushing up just in time to see her being 
carried up into the air. 




138 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

The great ungainly form of the areoplane, the hid- 
eous grinding and scraping sound of the machinery 
heard overhead, and the altogether unusual aspect sent 
a thrill of excitement through every spectator, and es- 
pecially was this feeling intensified in the minds of 
those directly interested in Virginia Warner, who had 
startled and astounded every member of her party by 
her unwonted display of daring and recklessness. Not 
a word was spoken by any member of her party. The 
unspeakable surprise^ fear, and solicitude for Virginia s 
safety was so plainly written on every face that words 
would have been superfiuous. Higher and higher rose 
the aeroplane, and farther and farther away it swept, 
bearing Virginia Warner and Harvey Covington on 
their reckless flight. Mr. Warner whose nerves had 
withstood the shock of many terrific encounters in the 
business world, now somewhat enfeebled by age and his 
recent illness, stood; stark and stiff with amazement. 

Harry Holcomb’s emotions were of a somewhat 
mixed quality. Added to the surprise at this most un- 
expected occurrence, was his fear for Virginia’s safety 
and his disappontment at not receiving the warm 
greeting from her which he had madly anticipated dur- 
ing his entire journey from New York. There was the 
sting of jealousy at the sight of his own Virginia seated 
beside that handsome stranger in his dazzling uniform. 
High minded and generous as Harry Holcomb was, he 
could not escape that sting, nor could he quite conceal 
his feelings, so plainly were these emotions depicted in 
his countenance. / 

Shouts and exclamations ^rom the crowd, distract- 
ing remarks, and the general commotion had but little 
effect to break the spell that had, taken possession of 
the friends of Virginia Warner. One incident, how- 
ever, occurred of such an unusual nature and so ludi- 
crous of its kind that it took the attention of many 
from the flying machine and directed it to an old darkey 
whose antiquated and dilapidated appearance was ex- 
ceeded only by that of the old clay colored mule and the 
rickety cart which he drove, who at sight of the areo- 
plane^ set up a most hideous wail, which attracted the 
attention of every one near. “Oh Lord a’ Massie f’’ 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


139 


■groaned the old, man^ as he fell on his knees, clasping 
his hands and wringing them in deepest agony, “Bar’s 
■Gabriel comic’ this blessed minute. I d’n’ no mo’ ’spect 
’im today nor a rabbit. Oh Lord! Massie Gabriel, help 
me! help me! I dun stole dat chicken, but I neber did 
eat ’im. Kase, Lord a Massie, dat air bird had 
mo’ quill fedders dan a crow and Dina neber did get 
dem fedders out. Don’ bring dat chicken up afore de 
judgment day, kase I neber d'd eat ’im. An’ tell de 
good Lord to forgib me, and will gib you half o’ dat 
chickin when it’s done.’’ 

Aroused from his abstractions by the movement 
of the crowd, the old darky looked up and seeing the 
aeroplane a mere speck in the distance, slowly got u.p 
from the ground muttering the following soliloquy: 
“I sure thought dat air was Massa Gabriel come to take 
us to the judgment day, but I guess it wa’nt. It sure 
was someick as I neber seed afore. I guess it was jest 
a ‘hant.’ He didn’t hab no trumpet nohow. Bress de 
Lord! I’s mighty glad dat ’t wa’n’t Massa Gabriel, 
kase dat air chickin mus’ be bout done cooked now. 
I’se gwine home and eat ’im fore nothin’ else happens 
so I is.’’ 

The ludicrous figure, and the old man’s dilemma 
did not fail to attract the attention of some of the party^ 
and instilled enough merriment into their minds to 
T)reak the spell and loosen their tongues. Mr. Warner 
was the first to speak. “I wish Virginia had taken a 
heavier wrap,’’ he remarked, “the air will certainly be 
cool at that altitude.’’ At this moment the aeroplane 
was making the turn just over the Washington monu- 
ment, and headed back toward the fort. Rapidly it 
came nearer and nearer, and with the precision of an 
eagle swooping down upon his prey the aeroplane made 
its descent and lighted only a few paces from where it 
started. 

With undisguised eagerness and a long breath of 
relief, Harry Holcomb rushed forward to assist Vir- 
ginia to alight. “Virginia,’’ he said — it was all he could 
say. “Why, Harry Holcomb! where did you come from. 
Did you drop out of the clouds,’’ said Virginia some- 
what agitated. “No, it is not I that has dropped from 
the clouds,’’ said Harry curtly. “Mr. Holcomb, will 
you meet Lieutenant Covington who has been acting as 


140 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


my sky pilot for the last half hour,” said Virginia. 
“With much more pleasure than I had, anticipated a 
few minutes ago^’’ said Harry, grasping the lieuten- 
ant’s hand. x 

Following the lead of Mr. Warner’s coolness of 
manner^ none of the party gave utterance to any ex- 
pession of surprise regarding the unusual occurrence. 
“You made very good time, lieutenant,” remarked Dr. 
Warfield, “I am glad you did not keep us waiting long- 
er.” — “Thanks,’’ said the lieutenant, “the machine did, 
work well today.” — “It is near lunch time,” said Mary,, 
and I suggest that we return to the city at once. All 
were agreed and the party was soon on the way, each 
thankful in his own mind that the events of the morn- 
ing had been concluded so favorably. 

The work of consolidating and reorganizing three 
great railroads into one economic system, was a task 
of gigantic proportions, which kept Harry Holcomb in. 
his office constantly for many weeks. This work had 
fallen heavily upon Harry’s shoulders, since Mr. Warner 
the president had not fully re *overed his health and 
could not assume the active duties of the office. Added, 
to this, Harry had discovered, a plot laid by Mr. Jam- 
ison which was intended to compass the ruin of 
both Mr. Warner and Harry. This intrepid schemer 
had formed a pool in Wall Street to quietly accumulate 
sufficient stock in the consolidated railroads to control 
the board of directors thus causing the removal of 
both the Holcombs and, Mr. Warner from the board of 
directors and placing himself at the head of the sys- 
tem. In thwarting this scheme, Harry had shown him- 
self easily master of the situation and he had emerged 
from the struggle not only with flying colors^ but with 
a handsome increase of the Holcomb and Warner hold- 
ings, and had seen the Jamison pool collapse and, a 
treacherous enemy forever removed from his field of 
action. 

Mr. Warner, Mr. Holcomb, and Harry all members 
of the board of directors of the new settlement enter- 
prise, having been so preoccupied with other matters,, 
the meeting of this board had been somewhat delayed, 
which gave Ellen ample time to prepare an outline of 
her plans for the settlement work, and to be able to 
make a clear statement of the needs for carrying out 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 14E 

her ideas. The day of the meeting finally arrived and 
after the preliminary business of organizing and arrang- 
ing for undertaking the work. Ellen was called upon 
for her statement and outline of plans; for it had been 
understood that this was Ellen’s work and that her 
plans were to be followed) as far as possible. She had 
therefore given it much thought and careful study. 

The location had been decided upon and the ground 
purchased but Mr. Ware, the architect, had not beeni 
able to proceed with his work until a definite plan had 
been adopted. Ellen began by a statement of her ideas 
of the work- to be undertaken. “Here,” she said is to 
be located a home in the most wretched part of the city, 
where vice is rampant and where crime is not uncom- 
mon; where human needs are greatest, and where igno- 
rance almost precludes improvement; where anything 
like decent home life is unknown, and where sanitary^ 
conditions are intolerable; where disease and pes- 
tilence fester in concealment, and: where everything 
repugnant to refinement of taste and culture is 
flaunted abroad. Here men and women of high 
ideals are to live in constant and immediate con- 
tact with these wretched people and in their polluted 
environment. Here the example of the meek and lowljr 
Nazarene shall be followed. Every dweller in this house 
shall be willing to give of his own life and) powers ac- 
cording to the abundance which he has received. He 
shall live as a neighbor to the vicious and criminal^ and 
by his life^and conduct exert an influence that will tend 
to elevate and better all mankind. He shall visit th<. 
sick and the suffering^ and with his own hands he shall 
pluck the thorns from the flesh that has been pierced, 
and bind up their wounds, and speak a word of cheer. 
To the erring and the fallen, he shall be merciful and 
kind; and, with an outstretched hand, he shall lift them 
up. And he shall teach these people the better way of 
life. The workers of this settlement shall be women 
whose lives are consecrated to the principle of doing 
good at all times. Classes must be organized and so- 
cieties formed to help these primitive beings with dis- 
torted mentality into a higher life, but the club man 
or woman, even of brilliant minds and abundant wealth, 
who is fearful of contamination or who is loath to use- 
his own hands, can help them not at all. ^ Gentlemen 


142 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

this is the real work of the Master, and as He freely 
gave of Himself, so must we. This work will cost 
much in courage; faith, patience, perseverance^ and 
physical energy; but it is surely worth the while. We 
have freely received,^ we will freely give. 

The simple earnestness of this plain self-sacrificing 
and unassuming girl, as she told of the work to which 
her life was dedicated, touched these men of affairs, 
and moved them deeply. They had caught a glimpse 
of something unknown in the sordid business world — 
a pure, unselfish motive, actuating a simple, devoted 
life was to them a novel and an unusual • thing. Here 
was business to be done upon a different basis from 
that of running a railroad. They were being shown 
ideals so much higher than those they were wont to 
entertain, that they were completely carried away. 

“By this magnificent generosity of Mr. Warner’s,” 
Ellen continued, but was interrupted by the gentleman 
named, who said^ “That donation was from Virginia, 
but I would like to be in this for the same amount.’’ 
“Here, too ’’ said Mr. Holcomb, whose gaze had, been 
rivited upon Ellen all the while she had been speaking, 
“There are dividends in sight there that I don’t want 
to miss. Put me down for fifty thousand and lay your 
plans broad, for as long as the Consolidated Railroads 
can earn the money this settlement business shall not 
want for funds.” 

Ellen was speechless with astonishment for a mo- 
ment; but regaining her composure she said simply, 
“Gentlemen, I thank you. — The needs for this enter- 
prise will necessarily be large; however, we shall have 
no salaried workers. This work will be done by unpaid 
volunteers.” — “What!” said Mr. Holcomb, “Do you ex- 
pect to keep that line running and pay less than the 
standard scale of wages?” “We pay the standard scale 
on our lines, and then have our hands full avoiding 
strikes at that.” — “We shall have no strikes, Mr. Hol- 
comb,” said Ellen. “We ha e now on our waiting list 
applicants for this work for more than a year ahead. 
The most of them are willing to pay their own board 
and give three months’ time to the work.” “Great 
Tieavens!” said Mr. Holcomb, “where have T been living 
all these years? I began to feel the need of settlement 
work myself. — Will you have a class for railroad pres- 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 143 

idents? if so I want to to be the first enrolled,.” — “I be- 
lieve we have you down already, Mr. Holcomb^” said 
Ellen with a smile. 

“Miss Rhinehart can you give us some ^dea of what 
will be needed in the way of a building?” said Mr. War- 
ner, anxious to see the work begun. 

“I have my ideas, Mr, Warner, but have never 
dared, to dream of realizing them now. We shall need 
living rooms for the workers, and if you will permit me 
I will speak what has been in my mind, but am ready 
tO' cheerfully accept any limits which you may set. Be- 
sides the living rooms for the workers we shall need 
a kitchen and a dining room large enough to seat a 
hundred at one time, for this will be the center of the 
neighborhood and we shall serve banquets and have 
neighborhood celebrations here from time to time. Be- 
sides a sufficient reception room or parlor, we should 
have several small club rooms, so that each nationality' 
may have a place to meet and enjoy, in their own par- 
ticular way, the association of their friends. Thus 
German^ French Italian, Irish and Slavs may gather 
here and gradually become amalgamated into one great 
American citizenship. Some local talent may be secured 
to address them upon simple every day subjects in their 
own language. The women may be gathered in in the 
afternoon and taught many things about home making. 
They may be taught simple and economic cooking^ plain 
sewing, cutting and fitting and even music. We shall 
need a large auditorium where all may gather for lec- 
tures or concerts, where musical or dramatic enter- 
tainment may be given.’’ 

At the mention of dramatic entertainments, Mr. 
Warner gave a little start, then looking around, to see if 
he was observed, finally returned his full attention to 
Ellen without comment. 

“We shall need a gymnasium,’’ Ellen continued, “and 
two large and completely equipped bath rooms, for un- 
less we provide means for bathing these people they will 
continue to live and die unwashed. We shall meed a 
well equipped dispensary with two small wards where 
an unfortunate and suffering creature may be taken in 
and cared for for a day or a night. Upon the roof of the 
building could be arranged a roof garden or play ground 
where the children of that crowded neighborhood could, 


144 the mysterious MONOGRAM. 

.get a littte sunshine and fresh air. This, gentlemen, is a 
rough outline of the needs for a work such as we have 
contemplated. I do not expect such a building. I have 
not dared to hope for it, but this is my ideal.” 

“Gentlemen,” said, Mr Holcomb, rising to his feet^ 
“It has never been the policy of my road to skimp an 
equipment when it was' certain that the business was 
along the line. We never found it profitable to buy 
pony engines when moguls were needed. I am satisfied 
that this is not a pony business. I believe there is bus- 
iness on that line^ and I am in favor of building for 
tomorrow.’’ “I should think,” said Mr. Warner, cooly, 
■“that it would be wise to embody in our plans about 
what Miss Rhinehart has indicated, ad I would suggest 
that Mr. Ware be instructed to confer with Miss Rhine- 
hart and submit to us a plan for such a building.” It 
was agreed to and at a subsequent meeting the plans 
were adopted and the work of construction was soon 
begun. 

Following a strenuous day with the board of direc- 
tors of the consolidated railroad Harry Holcomb sat in 
the lobby of the Waldorf Astor hotel dreamily going over 
the business of the day, when his attention was attract- 
ed by a very graceful and elegantly dressed gentleman 
at the farther end of the hall. Watching the figure in- 
differently for a few minutes Harry was aroused from 
his dreamy mood by an impression that there was some- 
thing familiar about the person he had been observing. 
■“I have surely seen that man before now,” he said to 
himself. His movements are very familiar to me.” 
A moment later the stranger stopped, directly in front 
of him; their eyes met; Harry sprang to his feet with 
an expression of surprise and delight. “By the jumping 
Jehosephat,’’ exclaimed Harry, “If this isn’t George 
Thornton. From what corner of the world do you hail 
now?” — “I came in on the Oceanic today,” said George, 
“and how is my old friend Harry, and how, about those 
charming Vassar girls^ with whom We spent that de- 
lightful summer? Let me see how long ago was that? It 
seems an age to me.” — “I am quite well,” replied Harry, 
“and as for the girls^ one is married, and the other has 
grown more charming every day.” — “Which one is mar- 
ried?” asked George eagerly,’’ — “Mary Cardwell, she 
married Dr. Raymond Wainright, or Raymond Wayne, 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 145 


as you knew him,” said Harry. George Thornton was 
silent, and without further questioning about the people 
lie had met at Colton, remarked “that he had an ap- 
pointment to meet some people at eight o’clock and it 
only lacked, five minutes of that hour.’^ — “But you are 
not going to leave me the moment I find you old boy? 
I could spend half the night talking over old times 
with you.’’ — “I should be delighted to spend the eve- 
ning with you, Harry, but I must meet a committee of 
the International Art Association of which I am chair- 
man.” — “You must be getting on well in the world of 
art, Thornton” said Harry, “I have often heard your 
work spoken of and see an occasional reference to you 
in the London Times.’’ — “I was chosen by the Conti- 
nental Art Society, which met in Paris, to come to New 
York, for this conference with some American artists 
I must finish this work in time to return on the Oceanic 
in three days.” — “What, return so soon?” exclaimed 
Harry in amazement. “L was just thinking that I would 
take you to Chicago with me next week and we would 
run down to Colton just for the sake of old times, but 
if you must return so soon, that will be out of the ques- 
tion, but look here, George Thornton, Miss Warner and 
I are to be married at Christmas time, and I want you 
to be best man.” — “I congratulate you, Harry, from 
the bottom of my heart,’’ said George^ “and will be on 
time at the wedding without fail. A little trip over 
from Paris will be nothing for such an event, and I as- 
sure you that I shall be delighted to come. But I must 
go now, Harry, bear my most sincere regards to Miss 
Warner- and, I will see you Christmas eve. Good 
night.” — “Good night, Thornton. Don’t you dare to dis- 
appoint me.” — “I shall be as certain in my course as 
is Jupiter, who leads me,’’ said Thornton, “and I will 
invoke the favor of Juno upon this occasion, Aurevoir.” 

Ellen Rhinehart sat in her office in the new set- 
tlement building deep in meditation upon the great 
work before her. The magnificent building was com- 
plete, and all the equipment was in place. Every de- 
partment was as complete as modern architectural skill 
could devise. Miss Bennett had come to her with some 
of her best workers and Dr. Wainright and Warfield 
were in charge of the dispensary, and everything was 
well organized and in good working order. Old Jack 


146 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


Hinston had left his engine on account of slightly fail- 
ing eyesight and was now installed as house man, in, 
charge of the building and grounds. The people of the- 
neighborhood had ceased to show their opposition to 
the settlement work, and many of them had come in to 
the classes and joined the clubs^ and were much inter- 
ested in the movement. 

While the ’ uilding was in the process of construc- 
tion, many threats had been heard that “fire would fix 
that thing,” and “smoke would drive out them fine fel- 
lers.” Little Jacob, son of Israel, had heard Tom Colton 
say that he would shy a brick through the first window' 
they put in, “Maw says them fine haired folks can^t 
come in here tryin' to bosi us.” — “Look here Tom ” 
said Ja^ob, “that air is Miss Rhinehart’s house — Miss 
Rhinehart wat brung the good eaten to Esaw afore he 
croaked. Now you mind how as I fixed your mug last 
year for buttin’ in. Now if I see you touch so much as a 
gravel about this house, you’ll have to wear a tater for 
a mug the rest of your days.kase they won’t be none on 
your front, when I git’s through wid ye.” 

All seemed to be harmonious now, and, Ellen was 
very happy in the realization of her dream The door 
opened, and Virginia entered, fiushed from her brisk 
walk in the chilly air. “How cosy you are here Ellen,” 
she said, after the first friendly greeting. “I am begin- 
ning to love this place even better than my own home 
I believe. Do you know what T have been thinking of^ 
Ellen? ^Conventional lines never did mean much to me 
you know, I have written to Harry and told him that I 
would like to be married right here in this house of 
yours. What do you say?’’ — “Nothing would please me 
more, Virginia, and I don’t see what there is to hinder,” 
said Ellen with delight. “You can have the exclusive 
use of the auditorium and banquet hall, and I can have 
the other halls vacated for one evening.” — “No indeed^’’* 
replied Virginia, “I mean to come in here without much 
ado, have a quiet wedding, and let these people come or 
go as they please; provide dinner for all who come, and 
keep no one away.” — “Just as you like, Virginia, I am 
at your command, and I am sure Harry will not object.’’ 
— “But I have just received, a letter from him, Ellen. 
He says that he has seen George Thornton in New 
York. He says he never saw a more refined and gentle- 


The mysterious monogram. 147 


manly appealing fellow than George. It seems that 
his visit to New York had something ^o do with the In- 
ternational Art Exhibit, which is now on there. Harry 
went over to see it and found that the first place on 

y 

the list of exhibits has been given to a series represent- 
ing the characters in Tennyson’s Idyles of the Kings, by 
George Thornton, and the crowds are going wild over 
his representation of Elaine, and Harry says that the? 
face and figure is an exact likeness of Mary Cardwell. 
And, do you know^ she wrote me a long time ago that 
she was sitting for him to paint that picture, but I had 
forgotten all about it until this letter came. Only think 
of it, Ellen, our Mary as Elaine in a world beater, and 
our friend Thornton, the artist. A very pleasant se- 
quence to that summer at Colton, isn’t it?” — ‘T am de- 
lighted to hear that, Virginia,’^ said Ellen, “but do you 
know I always thought there was something more than 
platonic friendship in that affair. I believe that George 
Thornton was dead in love with Mary and that his de- 
parture from here was hastened because he dared not 
stay longer lest his attention be diverted from his 
studies^ so high an ideal had he set for his life work.” — 
“And we shall see him at Christmas time, Ellen, for 
he is to be here at the wedding.” — “How delightful,’’ 
said Ellen “and it is only four weeks from tomorrow.” 

The snow had been falling all day on the pavement 
and piling up in little heaps on the window ledges. 
Whirling gusts of wind sent blinding puffs before the 
window out of which Virginia Warner had been gazing 
intently. She had gone to the window a hundred times 
that afternoon looking out as if expecting to see some- 
thing, but each time returning with a restless look, and 
went about in a slightly agitated manner. She knew 
that Harry could not arrive before five o’clock, yet long 
before the clock struck three, she had been to the win- 
dow many times looking down the walk toward the 
gate. It was how six o’clock; the lights on the streets 
were burning with a dim glow, ad Harry had not yet 
arrived. “What a dreadful storm this is,” she said to 
herself. “I am always afraid of collisions in these 
blinding storms, I wish Harry would come. What 
would I do if” — and she stopped suddenly as if frighten- 
ed at the thought. But just at that moment she caught 


148 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


a glimpse of some one coming slowly up the walk, 
through the .de'ep snow. “There is Harry this minute, 
she said, “I wonder why he is walking in this dreadful 
storm?’’ and she ran down to meet him, all excitement. 
“Home,” said Harry as he stepped inside the door shak- 
ing the snow from his great coat. “Come right in,” said 
Virginia, “it is warmer in the parlor, Harry, and I have 
a grate fire all ready for you. I am so glad you have 
come, my dear,” she said, throwing her arms about his 
neck and, clinging to him nervously, “I was beginning to 
be alarmed and thought of collisions, and wrecks, and 
in this awful storm.’’ — “But I am here safe and sound, 
my little darling,” said Harry, “and never to go away 
and leave you again, never. I feel as if I were at the 
end pf the race. You know Virginia how hard I have 
been working for so many years. It has all been for 
this my dearie. My mother died when I was so young. 
We had had, a beautiful home, and mother was a queen 
in her household," and devoted her life to making that 
one place a delight to us all. Then we laid her away in 
Graceland, and our home was broken up, and oh! the 
desolation that surrounded me. All was darkness and 
gloom. I was taken to England among relatives and, 
never felt at home, but through it all the memory of my 
former home remained a guiding star, and I determined 
some day to make a home for myself, since my other 
home was gone. I devoted myself to' study and hard 
work; I went through college; I kept away from the so- 
ciety of pleasure seekers and sports; I had no time for 
\yorthless amusements; and this picture of home, my 
guiding star, kept me from the shadowy places and 
away from questionable company. Through every 
doubt and difficulty this star lead me on. When ob- 
stacles towered before me mountain high and when I 
looked up, there was that picture, and my angel mother 
beckoning me on. Now here we are just at the door of 
that new home, and we are going into it tomorrow.” 
Virginia was sobbing. “My deary, what makes you 
cry, when we ought to be so happy?” — “Oh I am 
afraid, I am afraid,’’ sobbed Virginia. “Oh, Harry, I 
am so afraid.” — “Afraid, of what, my little bird? Who 
can harm you while I am here?”— “Oh, I am not afraid 

of any one’s harming me, but oh, I am so worried.’’ 

“But what are you worried about? Everything is 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 149 


ready; the house is finished, and all ready for us. We 
will go in and lock the whole world out and then you 
won’t be afraid.” — “But, Harry, it is that home that 
frightens me. I never had a home like yours. I don’t 
remember my mother’s face; I never knew a mother’s 
love. I was brought up by servants and anybody, 
without restraint and without a care. I went to 
school, of course, but my early life was spent in reading 
trashy books and in aimless play. My father was occu- 
pied with his business and could not look after me. 
He indulged my every whim, and gave me everything I 
asked. At Vassar we had a good time; we were taught 
many nice things, but oh the lack, the need of practical 
things. How can I go with you, Harry, to build that 
ideal home, when I have never even known what one 
was like?” — “Why, my dear Virginia, the house is all 
built. Mr. Ware sent me the keys and assures me that 
everything is complete.” — “But, Harry, h-o-u-s-e does 
not spell home. But I guess I am a little nervous; I 
was so worried over the storm and your delay.” — “The 
trains were a little late,” Harry explained, “and I did 
not see a cab near, so I walked over from the elevated. 
It is farther than I thought, but I didn’t mind it. 
Thornton will be here in the morning, I received a 
wireless message from him yesterday. They were to 
land last night, and he will be here on time. But how 
are things over at the settlement? I hope you havn’t 
planned a scheme to jump from another train, or go 
off in a flying machine, or attempt to ride Halley’s 
comet around the moon. I could not stand another like 
that.” — “Oh, no,’’ laughed Virginia, “I have resolved 
to be more docile hereafter. But I am delighted with 
what Ellen tells me of the interest those queer people 
are taking in the coming wedding. It will be a novel 
affair, and I hope it will go off smoothly.”— “Novel? 
well I should say,’’ said Harry, “but it is all one to me. 
You could lead me to the land, of the Hottentots, with 
a gassamer thread, or set me down at a banquet with 
Igerotes, providing I get my Queen.” — “Oh you silly 
kid,” said Virginia, “you are making fun of my ar- 
rangement, and I shall make you sorry for this.’’ — 
“Not at all, my dear, I should have suggested this very 
plan haa you not beaten me to it,” said Harry with as- 
sum'ed gravity. “Well, madlam,’’ said Harry, rising to 


150 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 


go, “tomorrow evening, then? I repeat it lest I forget. ’ 
— “Tomorrow evening, sir,” said, Virginia, loftly. 
“Very well, I shall call then tomorrow evening. Good 
night.” 

The hall o'f the settlement house was brilliantly 
lighted, and very tastily decorated with evergreens, 
holly and mistletoe. A large bank of roses was ar- 
ranged in front of the platform like a miniature flower 
garden. Ribbons were stretched along two aisles on 
opposite sides of the hall. The people who had gathered 
to witness the ceremony were arranged in seats so as to 
avoid disturbance as much as possible. Virginia entered 
from the right, learning on her father’s arm, preceded 
by a little Holland girl in wooden shoes, and yellow 
headgear, carrying a basket of beautiful flowers. Fol- 
lowing her came Ellen with six of her co-workers, all 
in white. Virginia wore a snow white satin gown, and 
carried white roses in her hand. At the same time 
Harry Holcomb and his father entered from the left. 
They were preceded by a little Scotch boy in kilts, 
carrying the ring on a silver tray. Mr. Thornton fol- 
lowed with Dr. Warfleld and several of Harry’s friends. 
Each column moved up the aisle while Mary Cardwell 
Wainright played the wedding march. Rev. Mr. Scott 
stood near the bank of flowers. The little flower girl 
advanced, distributing flowers as she went, and placed 
the basket at Mr. Scott’s feet. At the same moment 
the little Scotch boy handed him the tray and ring. 
The ceremony was short, and all was quiet in the room. 
The flowers were all distributed among the people, 
which greatly pleased them. Harry and Virginia lead 
the way to the dining room, followed by George Thorn- 
ton and Ellen Rhinehart. Dr. and Mrs. Cardwell, Judge 
Warfield, and family, and many others were seated at 
the table. 

“That’s a fine bunch o’ people,” said old Jerry 
Flynn to Pat Colton. “I’ve knowed the most of ’em 
inchemit for many years. There’s old Dr. Cardwell, as 
pulled my Patsy through measles twenty years ago, and 
there’s Mr. Warner, a fine man he be. Me and him run 
the Great American for a long time. I was section boss 
next beyond Colton. And say, Pat, you see that gal 
what was jist married? Well I seed her skid off from 
special wan day^ as niruble as any hobo yer ever seed 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 151 


wid a cop after ’im. She axed me the way to Dr. Card- 
well’s house, I mind it well, and now she has married 
the vice president of the Great Consolidated Railroads. 
And that slick guy, I mind him too. I helped him load 
a gal, what was hit by a train, into his buzz wagon. She 
was dead, but I guess she wasn’t conscious of it. So 
she got well; and them two fine lookin’ fellers, them’s 
both doctors, and they are both brothers, too. Before 
I came to Chicago, they told me what great money 
grabbers them city doctors be. Why a feller at the 
quarries told me that he knowed a specialist that would 
fit glasses on a blind pig for two dollars. He says, them 
surgeons would cut a good leg off o’ ye for a fee. And 
if you’d call one of them to treat a sprained ankle or a 
sore throat, he’d swipe your ’pendix and charge ye for 
carrying it off. Well, when little Tim, that’s my grand- 
boy, when he got sick, he had it in the hip; he was 
bad. He cried night and day for a week. I was afraid 
of them doctors, and I had no money, and no job 
kase I’m only a piece o’ junk now from the scrap pile 
of the Great American. Well one of them gals over 
there found Tim at the house. They are always lookin’ 
for trouble, them gals is. Well she brung them doctors 
over, and they cured him sound as a button. I got five 
dollars one time, and went overto pay ’em, and what 
do you suppose them doctors said? They says, ‘Jerry 
you take that money and buy Tim a suit o’ cloths,’ and 
what do you know about that. Two doctors and neither 
one of them would take money. Pat I tell you them 
two is a great pair-o-docs they be. And Miss Rhine- 
hart there as runs this place, she is an angel. She is 
always looking after everybody’s trouble, and takin’ 
care of them as needs it. When she first come here I 
beared fellers say as they’d burn this house down, but 
you just say a word agin Miss Rhinehart, now and 
you’ll have a fight on afore you can say Jack Robinson.” 

At the head of the table sat a merry company, Vir- 
ginia, Ellen, and Mary were in especially good spirits. 
‘‘It is indeed a great pleasure to have you with us again 
Mr. Thornton,’’ said Virginia. ‘‘We have often talked 
of you, and wondered where in this chilly old world 
you were wandering.” — ‘‘I have never found it so chilly, 
Mrs. Holcomb,” said George, ‘‘indeed I have found it 
quite the reverse.” — “We have all been miich interested 


152 THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 

in your rise in the world of art, and more than de- 
lighted to know of the preference given to your work in 
the New York exhibit,’’ said Virginia. “Indeed,” said 
Harry, “that picture of Elaine is an exquisite thing, and 
T was told that you had refused a fabulous price for it. 
But how did it happen that you painted Mary Card- 
well Wainright?”— “It did not happen,” said Thornton, 
with some feeling. “It could have been no other, and 
the picture is not for sale.” — “Ah,’’ said Virginia, “I 
thought you were a little sweet on Mary at one time, 
but when you so suddenly went away, on what we 
thought was your Don Quixote conquest in the world of 
art, I concluded that I was mistaken.” Mary colored 
perceptibly, and Raymond laughed heartily. “It may 
be,” said Ellen “that it has turned out a sort of an 
Enoch Arden affair.’’ — “No,” said Thornton, “it was the 
real thing, with reversion of type. Here Elaine became 
the Launcelot and Launcelot has become the Elaine, and 
since the tragedy is over and the boatman not yet ar- 
rived, I see no harm in painting a few pictures till he 
comes.” 

A commotion was heard at the other end of the 
table and old Jerry Flynn arose, holding a glass of 
water in his uplifted hand, he said: “Here is health, 
happiness, long life, and prosperity to the bride and 
groom, and three cheers for Ellen Rhinehart and this 
humanity house. Hip, hip, hurray!” The evening 
passed and the party separated. Mr. and Mrs. Hol- 
comb going to their new homq. Two days later George 
Thornton left for New York and immediately sailed for 
Europe. 

Fifteen years have passed since Humanity 
House received its name. The conditions of the neigh- 
borhood have greatly changed. After a long fight and 
many discouragements the worst of the tenement 
houses have been removed, and in their places new con- 
venient apartment houses of moderate rental have been 
built. The sanitary conditions are greatly improved, 
the streets are cleaner and sidewalks are kept in repair. 
The social conditions have greatly changed. National 
colorings have faded or become blended. Vice and 
crime have greatly diminished in the neighborhood rf 
Humanity House. The work of the settlement itself has 
changed, Thq cluljs and classes are formed not for the 


THE MYSTERIOUS MONOGRAM. 153 

different nationalities, but with reference to the work 
to be done. The kindergarten has become an important 
feature. A manual training school has been established, 
this institution. A .decided missionary spirit has shown 
this istitution. A decided missionary spirit has shown 
itself, and branch settlements have been established :n 
other neighborhoods. Ellen Rhinehart has always been 
in the lead of- every movement. Drs. Wainright and 
Warfield are still associated with the work, but they 
are largely occupied in other fields. Aside from their 
hospital and private practice, they are head surgeons 
for the Great Consolidated Railroads, of which Harry 
Holcomb is president. Mr. Warner has retired from 
active business and makes his home with Virginia and 
Harry. His chief delight and constant companions are 
little Tom, a sturdy lad of twelve, and Juanita, a be- 
witching little miss of ten, the image aaid counterpart 
of Virginia Warner of other days. 

“What is this you are doing?” said Virginia as 
she entered Ellen’s room at the settlement house, “are 
you preparing to move?” — “No,” said Ellen, “I have 
been looking over some of our early records and I find 
one that refers to your wedding day.” — “That was a 
great while ago,’’ said Virginia, “many changes have 
taken place since then.” — “I was wondering as I read 
this record over,” said Ellen, “where all the people are 
that were here that night.” — “Mrs. Cardwell is gone,’’ 
said Virginia, “and Judge Warfield. I saw the doctor 
yesterday, the dear old man. He is getting feeble, but 
is just as bright and cheerful as the day I first saw 
him. Harry has a letter from George Thornton. He is 
living in St. Petersburg, and is much taken with Rus- 
sian art. I wonder if Mary ever thinks of him now?” 

1 — “Oh, Mary is too happy in her own home to dream 
over the past,” said Ellen. “Good by,’’ said Virginia, 
rising to go. “We shall expect you to tea tomorrow.’’ — 
“It is Juanita’s birthday, and she will be greatly grieved 
if Aunt Ellen is not there.’’ — “I will surely come,” said 
Ellen. “Good by.” 


(THE END.) 






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